


Born in the Knight

by mjb0613



Series: Born in the Knight Saga [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Crime, Dark Knight, Detective, Fast Pace, Gen, Minor Character Death, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjb0613/pseuds/mjb0613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman is born again. This all new reboot shows the unique friendships forged by the Dark Knight himself before his parents murder, which in turn troubles him in cape and cowl. Gotham City gets even more dangerous with men in bandages, a black mask, and tally marks all running rampant. A fresh tale of the too often told Bruce Wayne saga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born in the Knight

Born in the Knight

By  
Matthew Barbier

Edited by:  
Kwamane Algee  
Becky Thevary  
Bryant Hill

 

Based on characters of DC comics and created by Bob Kane  
For the love of my life and my own personal bat symbol. Happy birthday. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part I

 

 

 

I

Thomas Elliot was a boy of ten years old sitting in his vast bedroom of his parent’s mansion. In front of him on his desk was a book with the writings of Aristotle, a famous Greek philosopher and teacher of Alexander the Great. The child did not want to read this by any means but it was forced upon him by his mother, who insisted he read this to understand the unique ways of his father.  
  
Thomas sat staring at the book but found his memories drifting elsewhere. Most commonly he remembered finding a bunny in the backyard one afternoon when his parents let him go outside. The rabbit was a mere baby and looked to have had a broken leg. Interested in why the animal hadn’t run from him, Thomas walks over to it. Almost instantly it starts crying out for its mother and father but nothing comes to the bunny except Tommy Elliot. The bunny is taken in his hands and can do nothing except scream.  
  
“It’s okay little bunny. I’ll make you all better.” Elliot explained to the baby rabbit.  
  
However, it appeared the rabbit’s thinking of all better and Tommy’s was completely different. Without taking a second thought, Thomas Elliot grabbed the broken leg of the bunny and twisted until he felt it snap clean off. The rabbit, crying even louder now, was instantly immobilized and at the mercy of the monster carrying it. Trying to figure out how to silence the creature, Elliot grabs half of its body in each hand and twists different directions. The rabbit is silenced as easy as that. Then there was a knock on the door.  
  
And another knock.  
  
Thomas was pulled from his dream as his mother entered his bedroom and shut the door behind him.  
  
“How far have you gotten?” She asks him.  
  
“Far enough. Shouldn’t I be doing my real homework or having fun like a normal kid?” Thomas responded.  
  
His mother looked taken aback. “You’re father has made enough money that you probably don’t need to attend school another day in your life. This is what’s important. We have a wealthy family. You should be happy. I grew up with nothing and ate crackers every other day. You’re father saved me and you won’t grow up like I did. Now summarize what you have read then you can go to dinner.”  
  
Tommy looked back down at his book of Aristotle’s writings. He had been reading his work on psychology when his mind wondered off back to the rabbit from a few days ago.  
  
“Aristotle's psychology, posits three kinds of psyches: the vegetative soul, the sensitive soul, and the rational soul. Humans have a rational soul. This kind of soul is capable of the same powers as the other kinds: The vegetative soul can grow and nourish itself. The sensitive soul experiences sensations and move locally. The unique part of the human, rational soul is its ability to receive forms of other things and compare them.”  
  
This was apparently enough to satisfy his mother because she ruffled his hair and whispered “We are going to have a good life son. Let’s head down for dinner.”  
  
Following his mother, the ten year old boy with now ruffled black hair and stout build looked back at his toys and his games of Clue and Battleship he plays with his best friend. Wondering how long he will be allowed to do that, he sheds a tear and follows his mother out of the room and down to the house’s dining hall. 

  


II

From across the way, a large boat could be seen with lights shining bright crossing Gotham Harbor. As the wakes lap against the docks in the pitch black water, the lights from the ship blind crew workers on the docks. They work diligently to get the ramps set up so the newly arrived immigrants can come to shore safely.  
  
Once the boat is safely docked, crew members anchor the vessel to the dock with looped ropes and allow the civilians to disembark to shore. Mixed in the throng of people, a small family of three is lost in the masses. A young blond boy with an age of 11 is separated from his parents and wonders franticly through the crowd searching. Back near the ship ramps, a middle-aged man is standing and talking to his younger wife who is very upset and speaking very fast in Russian.  
  
“Where is our son? How did he run off already?”  
  
Hearing the very familiar sound of his mother’s voice, the young blond boy rushes through the crowd and back to his parents.  
  
“Mama! Papa! I’m here!” the boy calls to his parents. They seem to hear him calling because they both look up and in relief, seeing their son’s blond hair bouncing towards them through the crowd.  
  
“Victor! Don’t ever do that again! We just got here!” His father said in Russian. He always sounded much more threatening when he spoke his native tongue.  
  
“Are you hurt Victor?” His mother asked in broken English.  
  
“Mother, I’m fine! Just got lost is all!”  
  
The three of them stood and admired the view. Looking up to the tallest point in Gotham City, a large tower with a bright W on it, Victor’s father looks down to his son and tells him:  
  
“It’s alright Victor. You’re a Zsasz. And back home that meant you can live through anything.” 

III

“Happy Birthday Bruce!”  
  
Bruce Wayne’s parents came into the kitchen of their mansion where Bruce was finishing up breakfast. February 19th only comes around once a year and that is Bruce’s special day.  
  
Bruce Wayne is now eight years old this morning. His scruffy black hair had been combed out himself after his early morning bath and was dressed for the fun of the coming day. His smooth and handsome baby face holds two brown eyes which he can use to get whatever he wants. Bruce is also the son of the two wealthiest people in Gotham City: Thomas and Martha Wayne. Bruce has had far from the normal life seeing as he was born literally in a mansion and has had a butler waiting on him since he could speak. And today that same butler made him his favorite breakfast; Blueberry waffles with strawberry syrup and fresh apples. Bruce really loved Alfred for more than just a butler. He was somebody for Bruce to talk to when his parents were always busy.  
  
This morning Bruce was awake before the time he usually arises for school. The excitement of the day allowed for very little sleep the previous night. School had been canceled due to the increased downpour of snow and his parents made arrangements for his best friends to come over. Bruce is always saddened that the group of friends are never allowed to see each other much because their parents are always so busy. Usually Bruce sits in the study of the mansion reading a book or doing homework while his parents are off doing whatever it is they do.  
  
But today was Bruce’s day. He was awaiting the arrival of his two best friends for they were going to go outside and have the time of their lives in the snow. But before they got there, Bruce had to ask his father one tiny little question as his mother runs back up the stairs of the mansion…  
  
“Hey dad, can I ask you something while mom is gone?”  
  
“Of course Bruce. What is it?” Thomas replied skeptical of why his wife had to be away.  
  
“Well, there’s a play I really wanted to see, and Roman said it’s being shown at the Monarch this weekend: Friday, Saturday AND Sunday. And it would be really cool if you and mom would take me!”  
  
“Why did your mother have to be out of the room for you to ask me?”  
  
Bruce was afraid of this but had to answer truthfully. “I was afraid she would say no…”  
  
Thomas laughed as he answered his son. “It sounds fine Bruce. What play is it?”  
  
“The legend of Zorro! It’s about this guy who wears a mask and helps people and stuff!”  
  
“Yes I know what it is Bruce. I’ll get your mother to join us and it will be a great time.”  
  
Bruce was so excited and thought this day could not get any better. A ringing from the doorbell announced the arrival of Bruce’s guests as he raced out of the kitchen as fast as his eight year old frame would carry him, past all the elaborate paintings and suits of armor found all over Wayne manor and straight to the front door, nearly beating Alfred there to answer it.  
  
Standing at the door were four adults who Bruce really couldn’t care about. Who he cared about were the two children standing in front of their parents. A taller than average nine year old boy in a black coat and hat and a shorter, more stout ten year old boy carrying a very neatly wrapped gift. The taller boy’s name is Roman Sionis and the shorter is Thomas Elliot. 

IV

Bruce, who has had his coat on since before breakfast, ran straight to his friends and started giving them high-fives and exclaiming he’s going to see the Legend of Zorro this upcoming weekend. Thomas gives him the package he’d been holding only for Bruce to rip it open the finely wrapped birthday gift and reveal a remote controlled helicopter. Without even saying thank you, he runs outside and begins playing in the snow. Smiling, Roman and Thomas follow, excited for a long day of snow filled excitement.  
By the time the children had run outside, Thomas and Martha Wayne had made it to the foyer to greet their guests and invite them in for coffee and lunch. They agree and are shown the way to the kitchen as Alfred Penneyworth closes the door behind them.  
  
Thomas is dressed in one of his countless business suits with a fine press and closely shaved face. Martha is wearing a pair of blue jeans and a formal blouse which is her everyday where when she isn’t at work. The couple lead their newly arrived guests to the kitchen where they can talk without the company of their children, which is always a nice benefit.  
  
In the kitchen, Alfred asks how they would all like their coffee. Oddly enough, none of the women take coffee at all and all of the men take theirs with no cream or sugar. The men start talking about the Gotham Knights hockey team and the women about the latest fashions in Gotham as they wait for Alfred to bring their requested drinks. Just as Mr. Sionis says he has a pair of Knights tickets to their road game in Metropolis this weekend, Alfred returns carrying a pot of coffee and a pot of tea.  
  
“I didn’t know if you ladies would like tea so I brought some as well. Here’s cream and sugar. I shall now get started on lunch. Roasted duck with a side of…”  
  
“Surprise us Alfred.” Thomas Wayne interjects winking at his butler and old friend.  
  
“Well now that we all have our beverages, I want to ask if you all would like to join Martha, Bruce and I at the theater this weekend. Bruce wants to see the Legend of Zorro and I said I’d take him.” He steals a quick glance at his wife who looks utterly confused and Thomas just winks.  
  
“You already know we can’t because of the Knights game. Or else we probably would. I think Roman has talked about that before.” The Sionis’ responded.  
  
“I think we have to decline as well.” David Elliot said. “I’ve never been much into theater and Mary is taking Thomas to see his aunt in Metropolis.” He indicated the Sionis’ when he said Metropolis.  
  
“Oh well. Looks like it’ll just be a family thing. Nothing wrong with that. Family time for Bruce’s birthday. Now I wanted to talk to the both of you about that new prison they’re building. I personally think it is a great idea and Wayne Enterprises will back it 100%. It’s supposed to help cure the patients, not just hold them. “  
  
“I agree. Sionis Industries is also backing it. We even helped come up with the name. The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Elizabeth Arkham after the great psychologist and founder Amadeus Arkham’s mother. I think it’s a great idea. Shall we announce that we back it together later this week? Wayne Enterprise and Sionis Industry backing Arkham Asylum. That’ll be headlines for a week!”  
  
“Sure, we can do that. I have a conference planned Thursday. I’ll even give you a ride. What about you David? Mary? What do you think of the prison?” Thomas asked, noticing the couple had been very quiet.  
  
“Well.” David said, not sure what to say. “It’s located far from city limits, which is great. It is supposed to heal and treat the patients, which is also good. And most importantly it gets the criminals off the streets and I think that’s what Gotham needs the most. Hopefully it stays for a long time.”  
  
The six adults all agree and toast to that statement. A plan to clean up Gotham City. 

V

Roman Sionis had just finished building a snow fort while Thomas and Bruce play with Bruce’s new helicopter. Roman was in the process of building snowballs to throw at the kids when the helicopter flew overhead, starling Roman and making him fall in the snow.  
  
“Hey this is an expensive leather jacket! Watch it!” He yelled as he stood up from behind the fort. Looking over at the boys who seemed to not be paying attention to him anyway, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of black cloth; mask of some kind. Seeing that the boys didn’t seem keen on playing with him, Roman decides to have a little fun with them. Slipping the mask on, he sneaks up behind the kids and screams as loud as he could.  
  
Jumping at the unexpected sound, Bruce falls and rolls a bit down the hill behind them. Thomas drops the controls for the helicopter and jumps back as far as he could. Roman collapses into the snow in a fit of laughter as the other boys regain their breath and try to slow their heart rate.  
  
“What the heck Roman?” Bruce yells as he makes his way back up the hill. “Why did you do that?”  
  
“I was just having a little fun. It’s more than you two were letting me have with you!”  
  
“That wasn’t fun! You scared us half to death! Why do you even have that stupid mask with you anyway? It’s from Halloween!”  
  
Roman pulls off the mask and looks at it. He fell in love with it since he saw it at the store well before this past Halloween. The concept of it was really interesting. Everything was black, yet it clung to his face so well it resembled it perfectly like a skull. He loved it so much he carried it around with him ever since. It was his Black Mask.  
  
“Grow up Roman it’s just a mask. Put it away until next Halloween.”  
  
By this point, Roman was tired of listening to Bruce and decided to take things into his own hands, literally. He walks over to Bruce and starts hitting him anywhere he could, over and over. Eventually, he decides one more punch is enough and punches Bruce square in the eye as he is lying in the snow, cowering and trying to cover up.  
  
When Roman gets off of him, Bruce gets up and runs as fast as he could trying his hardest not to cry. Roman knowing that some sort of repercussion will come of this, walks after Bruce and wonders what story he can tell the adults.  
  
Meanwhile, no one noticed Thomas Elliot standing at the bottom of the hill. After Roman had scared him, he dropped the controls for the helicopter. When he did that, the helicopter crashed into the snow covered lawn at the bottom of the hill. Upon impact, the helicopter actually caught fire and burned. Standing at the bottom of the hill, oblivious to the fight going on behind him, Thomas Elliot stands amazed and mesmerized by the beauty of the fire before him. He had never been so close to one before and the warmth it gave off was incredible. It was a small fire and fizzled out quickly due to the snow but for a moment, Thomas felt warm and alive. He didn’t recall the Aristotle his mother was making him remember to understand his abusive father. He didn’t worry about school or reading. The light of the fire beckoned him, calling to the side of him that killed the defenseless bunny in his garden. 

 

VI

Bruce Wayne runs into his mansion in a blind effort to find his parents. His right eye was closing due to swelling and he lost the battle with the tears he was trying to hold back. He heard voices coming from the right of the foyer, either the kitchen or the dining hall behind it. In the kitchen, Bruce smelled coffee but saw no one. The voices were louder which meant he was near the adults. They must be in the dining hall.  
  
He rushed through the doors and to the end of the long table where he was barely able to see his father sitting. “Roman punched me in the eye and face and chest and he wouldn’t stop! I can’t see out of my eye and my side hurts!” Bruce kept trying to talk but after a moment, his words became mumbled through tears and groans.  
  
“He started it! He wouldn’t let me play with him and he hit me first! All I wanted to do was fly the stupid helicopter and he wouldn’t let me!” Roman burst in going over to his parents and flopping into a seat beside them.  
  
“Did you hit him back?” Thomas Wayne asked looking down at Roman.  
  
“Only in self-defense because he hit me!”  
  
“Roman, this doesn’t look like self-defense!”  
  
“Are you accusing my son for beating your kid? It sounds like it’s his fault anyway! He should apologize for being stuck up and not letting Roman play! Especially if he hit him first!” Roman’s mom spit back at Thomas Wayne.  
  
“Okay, that’s enough. Let’s just leave. Thomas I’ll see you Thursday.” Roman’s father intervened quickly and with that, the Sionis family got up from the table and left Wayne Manor without another glance back.  
  
No one seemed to notice Thomas Elliot slink in after Roman. He did so very quietly, still captivated by his epiphany through the fire.  
  
“Come on Thomas, we’re leaving too.” Thomas’ mother said. This was the first time she had spoken all day. She got up, grabbed Thomas by the hand and looked back at her husband as if to say ‘Are you coming too?’  
  
“You guys don’t have to go, really!” Martha Wayne said. “Lunch is almost ready.”  
  
“It’s fine Martha. You guys take care of Bruce. We both have to work tomorrow but I’ll bring Thomas by in the morning on my way if that’s alright?”  
  
“Of course it is. He’s always welcome.” Martha said and with that, the Elliot’s also left Wayne Manor.  
  
Alfred then comes in carrying plates and utensils for nine but stops abruptly when he realizes there are only three left in the dining room. “Where has everyone gone?” he wonders aloud.  
“Just set three places in the kitchen Alfred. Thomas just needs to take of Bruce. We’ll be right down.”  
  
“Of course Mrs. Wayne.” Alfred says, curious as to where everyone went and what happened to young Master Bruce. 

VII

“I’m sorry I beat up Bruce Wayne.” Roman Sionis says from the back seat of his parents’ Jaguar. “I just can’t stand him. He thinks he is so much better than everyone, especially since it was his birthday.”  
  
“Roman,” his father responded. “It’s alright. You know what you did is not the correct way to handle things and you know that now.”  
  
Roman sits quiet, staring out of the window at the countryside passing by. Slowly, he forms a question he still isn’t sure he wants to ask…  
  
“So… I’m not in trouble for beating up Bruce?”  
  
“No Roman. You know what you did was wrong and that’s all that matters.” His mother said from the passenger seat.  
  
“And I have to be honest with you son. We don’t like the Wayne’s all too much either. But we have to keep up appearances with them for business sake, one day you’ll understand that. Just do us a favor and don’t beat up Bruce Wayne again anytime soon. It will make things a lot easier for me.”  
  
“Well, I’ll try dad. But he’s a little brat. I hate him and his stupid butler.”  
  
“I’m being serious Roman. Don’t do it again.” And on that note, Roman knew his father was being serious and he quietly went back to watching the outside world pass by his parents’ luxury sedan. 

VIII

“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? I can have Alfred bring us whatever we want.” Bruce told Thomas the next morning. Thomas arrived at 8:00am and will stay until his mother picks him up later that evening after work. The bedroom was dark with just the hint of the morning sun reflecting off of the snow below. The boys once again had a snow day.  
  
“I’m fine Bruce. Thanks though.”  
  
“Are you sure? You said you didn’t have any breakfast.”  
  
“I said I’m fine! We have plenty of money for breakfast my mother just didn’t want to cook, okay? Can we play Battleship now?”  
  
Bruce not sure what the money comment was for or why he said it in such a snippy tone, silently agreed and pulled out Battleship from its box and started to set it up but was interrupted when Tommy spoke again.  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t step in and stop the fight yesterday. I got distracted by the helicopter…”  
  
“Don’t worry about it.” Bruce said as he leaned up against his bed. “It isn’t a big deal at all. I feel fine today. Look, it’s just a bruise!” Bruce pointed to his eye and laughed as he continued to set up the game the two boys decided to play.  
  
Downstairs, Thomas Wayne is sitting in the entertainment room across from the dining hall watching the news with his wife when the two boys come running down the steps from Bruce’s bedroom and into the room.  
  
“Do you guys want to play Clue? We’ve played Battleship like 10 times and Thomas has beaten me 9 out of 10. So I’ll get him in clue!” and before waiting for an answer to the question he asked his parents, the two boys run out and back up the stairs to Bruce’s bedroom.  
  
“You know, the boys have been playing a lot of witty games and I noticed Thomas wins a large majority of them. I’m just glad Bruce has a friend and one that can challenge him mentally. That’s really good for him.”

IX  
Later that night, Thomas Elliot is sitting in his bedroom with the door locked and the contents of his toy chest threw everyone. A stuffed teddy bear lay near his desk with stuffing ripped out. Two GI Joe action figures are dismembered and strewn across every corner of the room. The pages of his book on Aristotle are ripped and slung around as if a tornado picked up the book and demolished it.  
  
In his head, Thomas Elliot is arguing about his family and his life. He thinks he shouldn’t have to study stupid Aristotle to deal with his abusive father. He doesn’t think his mother should live with him. But most of all, he thinks he should get what he wants and what is rightfully his: his parents fortune.  
  
His father has been wealthy since birth and this is why his mother has changed so much and makes Thomas do all of these things so she doesn’t have to go back to her impoverished life style. But most of all, he is jealous of how Bruce Wayne can throw around his families fortune like it’s nothing. “My butler can bring us something.” Or “Let me ask my parents if they want to blah blah blah.” Thomas thinks to himself that he would LOVE to have that privilege but he knows it could never happen.  
  
Suddenly his mind wonders back to the fire he had seen at Wayne Manor and how it spoke to him. Then to the number of innocent animals he had killed with his bare hands. Images of fire and blood flowed so freely through his mind that he had no second thoughts about what he did next.  
  
Taking great care to not disturb his parents, Thomas snuck down the steps, through a great hallway and the massive kitchen with a wood burning stove, and into the garage. Doing something he had seen on television just the night before, he goes over to his father’s tool bench and finds a pair of wire cutters. Thinking to himself that the wire cutters should do the job, Thomas walks over to his parents new BMW M3 and gets down on the ground. Being just small enough to reach underneath and following the example he had seen on television, he cuts a cable leading from under the hood to the two right passenger tires. Under the car, a small pool of brake fluid is forming, unseen and unknown by anyone except Thomas Elliot. 

X

The next night, Bruce and Thomas Wayne are settling in on the sofa of the entertainment room when Bruce realizes the hockey game had already started.  
“I thought you said they don’t usually start on time dad!” Bruce yelled, showing his frustration.  
  
“Calm down Bruce. You have only missed thirty seconds. And your mother is trying to read.”  
  
Looking over, Bruce sees his mother sitting in a beige recliner that came with the sofa reading a book. She had never been much of a Gotham Knights fan, or hockey in general.  
  
“Man I wish I could play hockey like these guys. They are so cool! Why didn’t we go to this game for my birthday?” Bruce asked his parents.  
  
“Because you wanted to go see the Legend of Zorro on Saturday.” His father replied smiling. “Or else we would have.”  
  
“And because we got you these.” His mother added, reaching behind her chair and pulling out another well wrapped package.  
  
Bruce took no time unwrapping the gift wrapped in two layers of birthday cake wrapping paper. Once it was all off, he saw the word Easton and got as excited as when his dad told him they were going to the theater.  
  
“You guys got me skates!?!? That’s awesome! And you waited until we were watching the game! That’s so cool! Can you guys teach me to skate?”  
  
“Well I can’t and but maybe your father or Alfred could.” Martha just realized that her husband had left the room but could hear his voice in the hall. She has gotten used to this happening by now but it still grows tiresome, especially in family situations like these. At least once every two weeks, Thomas Wayne will get called into Gotham General where he works and have to do emergency surgery.  
  
“Martha will you come here a moment please?” Thomas called as he stuck his head into the room from the foyer where he was getting his coat.  
  
“Get called in for backup at the hospital?” she asks as she steps into the foyer.  
  
Thomas walks a little bit then making sure Bruce didn’t follow, turns and explains. “Yes. I got called in. Martha, it’s the Elliot’s.”  
  
XI

Lieutenant James Gordon is standing before the scene of a terrible automobile accident wrapped in a heavy Gotham City Police Department parka and his orange hunting cap covering his brown bowl cut. Upon arriving on the scene he knows he will need more than just himself and his partner. On the radio in the squad car, he calls for another squad car, crime scene investigators and the paramedics.  
  
As he gets out of the car, he immediately try’s to understand how the accident occurred. There are no other vehicles involved (or at least no evidence of another vehicle).There are only one set of tire tracks in the snow and the lead from up the hill. But he just can’t comprehend how there is a BMW smashed against the side of a brick building at the bottom of the hill.  
  
Trying to recreate the scene in his mind, he imagines the blue BMW coming down the hill like any other car would. They would brake and come to complete stop at the stop sign, then turn left or right since straight would lead them into the side of a building, exactly where this car is. Looking down, Gordon notices odd marks on in the snow. The car was turning right at a high rate of speed and didn’t appear to brake at all. The snow was sprayed around the scene as if the car was only able to turn without braking.  
  
Gordon follows the hill up and notices no sign of the vehicle slowing down at all. But standing at the top of the hill, he can piece together the accident much better in his mind. The car steadily gained speed as it went downhill, along with what it had built up already. The car never tried to slow down but tried very hard to turn right at the bottom, ultimately crashing into the side of the building.  
  
Having a hunch and hoping it is wrong, Gordon walks back down to the accident as the paramedics arrive and begin pulling the female passenger from the car. The male driver was killed upon impact but is still taken to Gotham General for evaluation. When Gordon is able to once the paramedics are clear of his way, he gets down on the pavement and reaches underneath the car, feeling for something he isn’t finding. A brake cable.  
  
As Gordon is standing up, a female office named Nina Edge who is also wrapped in a G.C.P.D. parka and wool gloves tells him they have an ID on the car and victims. David and Mary Elliot. 

XII

Thomas Elliot is sitting in Gotham General’s emergency waiting room next to Lt. Gordon, who is holding a cup of coffee and wondering what is going to happen. Will this little boy’s parents be okay? Does he have a place to go? Why was the brake cable cut on the BMW? And why was the coffee so terrible in Gotham City?  
  
“Tommy, I need to ask you a couple questions.” Gordon told the boy in as light of a tone as he could muster. “Would that be okay?”  
  
Tommy heard the officer talking to him but was too caught up in his thoughts to respond. Why had they brought him here to the hospital instead of the police station? Was one of his parents still alive? Why was everything so white and clean? And why did the thought of blood and panic arouse his senses?  
  
“Tommy? Hey? Can you tell me where your parents were going tonight?” Gordon asked.  
  
“They said they were going to the store. What happened to them?” Gordon knows that he can’t lie to the kid so he tells him as much of the story as he knows. If it was him in this situation, he would want to know what happened too.  
  
“Well son. Your parents were in a car accident. The brake line on the passenger side of the car was cut and the vehicle lost control and slammed into the side of a building just down the hill from your house. The brake cable was cleanly cut so it wasn’t an accident. Do your parents have any enemies or someone who would want to hurt them?”  
  
Tommy knew that saying himself would be the worst thing possible so he just looked at the ground and shook his head. Jim Gordon stood up and threw away his coffee cup by the nurses’ station. At the same moment, Thomas Wayne is coming down the hallway labeled ER and is covered in blood. With that sight being seen, Gordon prepares himself for the worst.  
  
Thomas stops short of the waiting room, knowing the Elliot’s son was out there and didn’t want to upset the boy with his appearance. He leans in close to Gordon who walks over to him, understanding Wayne’s actions.  
  
“David didn’t make it to the hospital. The paramedics thought they might be able to get him here but it was too late. Mary made it however. Barely, but she hung in there. I did all I can. She will need care over the next quite a few years and won’t be able to keep Tommy. She has severe brain damage which is strange because she barely hit her head in the crash. I suspect abuse from David to be completely honest. I’ve known them for years and that’s always been my gut feeling. This accident just brought it out.”  
  
Gordon nods his understanding and thanks Thomas Wayne for all he has done and turns to walk back to Tommy. Trying to figure out how to tell him his father died and his mother has severe brain damage wasn’t exactly part of his job description. Luckily, he got a message from Officer Edge saying they contacted Thomas’ aunt in Metropolis and she is on her way to pick him up. Having no other choice, Jim takes a deep breath and walks right up to the boy who hasn’t moved an inch.  
  
“Tommy, I have some really bad news… You’re father died in the crash. The doctors did all they could but they just couldn’t save him. Your mother is alive. She has a lot of brain problems right now and will need a lot of medical help. Your aunt Maggie is on her way to pick you up and take you back with her. Come on, I’ll take you to get some things from your house.”  
  
Gordon extends a hand to the boy but Thomas just gets up and starts walking towards the exit. Gordon was completely astonished that he took the news so well. But what he didn’t know was Tommy is the reason they are in Gotham General in the first place. And that neither of his parents should be alive.

XIII

At breakfast the next morning, Bruce is dying with excitement to tell his father about the Gotham Knights game he missed last night. It was such a great game! The Knights beat the Star City Arrows 6-1! But when Bruce saw his father walk into the kitchen, all the excitement from the previous game was gone.  
  
“Bruce, I have something terrible to tell you.” His father said with a grim tone.  
  
“Well hurry up because I have to tell you about the Knights game before school!”  
  
Fearing Bruce wouldn’t understand the gravity of the situation if he played along with Bruce’s enthusiasm, he had to muster up a firm and demanding yet sensitive way to break the news to his son.  
  
“Bruce, calm down and listen.” Bruce did as he was told. He knew better than to not listen to his father, especially when he took this tone of voice.  
  
“When I left last night, I got a call to go to the hospital. You know that happens quite often, but this time was different. I got called in to perform surgery on David and Mary Elliot.”  
  
Bruce was speechless and almost thought his dad was joking. He knew better however, because his father never played around with his work. What he did was save people’s lives which is no joking matter.  
  
“They were in a pretty bad car accident and David didn’t make it. Mary did, but she has a lot of brain damage. Thomas is going to Metropolis and staying with his aunt until Mary is better.”  
  
Bruce couldn’t believe his ears. One of his only friends lost his father and most of his mother and has to move to Metropolis. Realization came upon Bruce that he has no one to play Battleship or Clue with anymore. For the second time that week, tears overtook him as he jumps down from the island in the kitchen and takes off running to his room. Martha Wayne walks into the kitchen to find an explanation to Bruce running off and crying. Feeling very confused, she asks her husband what just happened and reluctantly, Thomas has to tell the sad tale one more time.  
  
In his bedroom, Bruce pulls down his game of Battleship and sets it up to play for two people. He tries his hardest but ultimately realizes he lost the one person who always played with him and made it a challenge for Bruce to win.  
  
XIV

“So you said the brake cables were cut clean off?” Martha asks her husband, still trying to wrap her head around the bizarre story.  
  
“No, not both. Jim Gordon said it was only one; the passenger side. The driver’s side took all of the impact which is why David didn’t make it.”  
  
“Will there be any funeral arrangements made?” Martha asks not knowing if it is possible.  
  
“No, unfortunately not. Mary isn’t in any shape to even walk. And they had no other family except for the Aunt Tommy is going to stay with, who isn’t even close to the family from the sounds of it. From what I understand, David will be cremated and given to Mary when she can fully remember what happened. Also, the brain damage Mary has could not have been from the accident fully. Of course it helped it a long, but I fear signs of abuse. There is no other explanation.”  
  
Martha just shook her head in disbelief. Those two were in her house not even a few days ago. Life has its mysterious ways but this is just beyond strange.  
  
After telling his wife the story of the Elliot’s they agree that Bruce doesn’t have to go to school that day. Nor will they force him to eat breakfast with the two of them. Thomas explains that Tommy Elliot was the only good friend Bruce had and even though he was physically uninjured, Bruce is losing him because he’s moving 100 miles away to Metropolis and that is going to be hard on any kid.  
  
“You know what? Let’s take Bruce to see The Legend of Zorro tonight instead of Saturday. It will give him something closer to look forward to and perhaps take his mind off of things.”  
  
Thomas loves his wife’s idea and dashes across the foyer to the study to grab a piece of parchment and writes the following:  
  
Bruce, we decided to go to the theater tonight.  
Your mother’s idea, not mine.  
Feel better and enjoy Breakfast.  
Mom and Dad.  
He makes it back to the kitchen just in time to catch Alfred as he is taking Bruce’s favorite breakfast up to him.  
  
“Alfred, could you give him this as well? Just set it on top.”  
  
“Of course, Master Wayne.” Alfred replies as he grabs the folded parchment from him and begins his trek up the stairs to the East Wing of Wayne Manor, breakfast in hand.  
  
XV

Thomas Elliot is feeling a vast array of emotions as he packs a backpack in his bedroom. The police officer that brought him, Jim Gordon, is waiting downstairs, and is giving Tommy some privacy of his own. But looking around his room, Tommy doesn’t find much he wants to take with him. It all just brings back bad memories of his mother and father.  
  
Pulling over his trashcan, he grabs every book his mother had ever given him and throws it away. To him, burning them would have served a better purpose but he didn’t have that kind of time. Turning to his backpack, he has a few of his favorite shirts and some pants. He threw the rest of his clothes away and everything that he kept was not bought with his father’s money but his own or a gift from grandparents who are now deceased.  
  
He sits down on his bed and thinks as he looks around his room. “Bruce Wayne has it so easy. His butler waiting on him hand and foot, he never needs to do anything. All because his father owns one of the biggest companies in the world. Their house is three times as big as mine and I don’t know why. My father had all that money, and never spent it on more than a crappy two story middle class house. If only my mother had died too. Then that money would be mine.  
  
“If that money was mine, once I turned 18, I could do what I want with it. A huge mansion, bigger than the Wayne’s perhaps. And with a butler. And I’d go to college and be a doctor. The best doctor there is. That way, I would keep my money coming in. More than I could spend in one time too!  
  
“But thanks to Bruce and his father, my mother is still alive. She was supposed to die in that car crash too. Officer Gordon said the car was turned so hard into the wall; it was almost as if my father was trying to protect my mother. But that’s impossible considering he hit her every day. Why would he try to save her?  
  
“That doesn’t matter now. He’s dead and she isn’t which means I have to go stay with Maggie in a completely different city. And it’s all Bruce’s fault. My mother will suffer more than she did before he died. I wanted to kill her to save her from her own reality. And now she will suffer more. And I will too. Until she dies, I will suffer. Thanks Bruce. One day, you will suffer too.”  
  
Thomas Elliot zipped up his backpack and took one final glance around his room. Seeing his game of Battleship and Clue on top of his bookshelf, he knows exactly what he wants to do with them. Grabbing a chair and climbing up to recover the games, he throws them down into the garbage. This not only symbolizes his removal from his once good friend, but the end of being tied to Bruce Wayne altogether.  
  
XVI

Bruce hears a knock at his bedroom door but decides to not respond. Instead, he rolls over and faces the wall, away from any windows and light. He just wants to be alone with his thoughts and try to sleep. Maybe this is all a nightmare when his best friend goes away and if he wakes up, nothing will have changed and he’d just be late to school.  
  
However, the knocking continues and Bruce hears the door open. Across the room, Alfred is carrying a tray of what Bruce assumes is the breakfast he ran out on. He rolls back to the wall and mumbles something that sounds a bit like “I’m not hungry.”  
  
“Well you may not be hungry master Bruce, so you don’t have to eat. But you do have to read this.”  
  
Not expecting this response from Alfred, Bruce looks up and slowly crawls to the end of his queen size bed. Alfred hands him a folded up piece of paper, and already knowing what his reaction will be, Alfred goes over to pull the shades open on the windows, letting sun into a room that would have been a great home for bats.  
  
As Alfred walks away, Bruce slowly unfolds the parchment, instantly recognizing his father’s handwriting.  
  
Bruce, we decided to go to the theater tonight.  
Your mother’s idea, not mine.  
Feel better and enjoy Breakfast.  
Mom and Dad.  
  
“Alfred do you know what this says!?!” Bruce yells after he reread the note three times. “We’re going to see the play tonight!! Can you believe it! Instead of tomorrow, we’re going tonight!”  
  
“Congratulations Master Bruce. I’ve heard many great things about that play. It was pretty popular where I come from. I’ve never seen it myself though.”  
  
Bruce always liked Alfred for this reason. He would always hold a conversation with you, no matter what. It wouldn’t be like talking to a wall that would say “Yes sir” or “No sir”. Alfred always had something to say in response, and was the most genuinely nicest person Bruce had ever met.  
  
“You’ve heard about it? Is it good? I can’t wait to see it! I’ve heard kids at school talking about it too. Apparently there will be some kind of full length movie based off of the play. I doubt it will be good though. What do you think?”  
  
Bruce grabs the silver platter containing his breakfast off of his desk and begins to shovel down the eggs and pancakes contained within it. Smiling as he explains what he knows and his dislike of anything from stage made into a feature length movie, Alfred is delighted to sit and talk with Bruce after he overheard the tragic news about the Elliot’s. Secretly, Alfred swore to himself to be the best of friend he could be to Bruce, even if he is still the child’s butler. 

XVII

Upstairs in his room, Victor is talking to his mother after his first week of school. All of the children made him very angry and he didn’t ever want to go back. The one thing Victor noticed is that if one kid did something, the rest of them would follow suit.  
  
For example, Victor explained to his mother that a couple of students were making fun of him for his accent and shabby clothes. Soon after, the entire class joined in, poking fun at Victor’s differences. It lasted a good two minutes until the teacher finally stepped in and stopped the students.  
  
That however isn’t the only thing Victor noticed. All of the kids dressed relatively the same. There were only three or four different types of shoes and backpacks and other accessories. Everyone dressed like each other. Like mindless zombies as Victor told his mother.  
  
“I don’t understand mom. Will people get nicer here? Is Gotham really that bad of a place?”  
  
“It will child. I promise. It takes time”  
  
“But mama. Why does everybody have to act the same? Can’t people just be different from each other?”  
  
XVIII

“Aren’t you guys ready yet!?” Bruce asked his parents for the third time in that hour.  
  
Thomas and Martha had been getting ready for the play when Bruce busted in and interrupted them. Again.  
  
“Bruce, we would be much more ready if you stopped coming in here every 15 minutes!”  
  
Bruce laughs at his mother’s response as he exits his parents’ bedroom. He had been ready for the past two hours, with his small tuxedo he only wears on very special occasions. He figured that this would be an acceptable time to where it. After all, the theater is supposed to be a formal place.  
  
While coming down the stairs of the mansion to the grand foyer, Alfred is exiting the kitchen and sees Bruce all dressed up. “It really is that much of a special occasion to you, isn’t it Master Bruce?”  
  
“Of course Alfred! I told you I’ve been wanting to see this forever!”  
  
As Bruce and Alfred are talking at the foot of the stairs, Thomas and Martha Wayne appear at the top, dressed just as formal as Bruce. Thomas is wearing almost the same exact black and white tuxedo as Bruce, bowtie included. Martha is wearing a strapless dress that is the most vivid shade of ruby red with a strand of glimmering white pearls around her neck and wrist.  
  
Bruce notices his parents and runs up the stairs to join them, hugging his mother’s leg. He is so excited both of his parents agreed to take him to the play. As the three members of the Wayne family descend the steps of their luxurious mansion, they are stopped by Alfred.  
  
“First let me say that you all look wonderful. The most formal I’ve seen in a while. Now Master Wayne, what car shall you all be taking tonight?”  
  
Thomas thought about it, and then glanced at his family.  
  
“I already called a cab for us Alfred. I didn’t feel like driving into the city, especially with the storm coming. Tonight, we will travel like regular citizens, and Bruce will have one of the best nights of his life at the play.”

Bruce becomes excited by the fact that he is going to be in a cab. He’s never been in anything other than a car driven by Alfred or an expensive European sports car. Immediately, Alfred seems to have concerns about the Wayne’s taking a cab and having to wait downtown in a storm at night for the return trip. As he watches them pile into the back of a Gotham City cab which had just arrived via the dirt and gravel driveway, he feels the untimely urge to go stop them. But going against his better judgment, he watches the cab drive off into the lights of Gotham City. 

XIV

“Wow the famous Wayne family in my cab. This is certainly a sight I didn’t expect to see. How did I get so lucky?”  
  
Once the Wayne family is in the cab, the driver begins to drive off towards the lights of Gotham. Very near the edge of the city, a heavy electrical storm is brewing, throwing lightning from ground to sky in a split second. Instead of watching the lightning, Thomas Wayne took a look back towards his mansion seeing Alfred in the large bay window. It seemed as though he was watching the car drive away but Thomas figured he was just watching the lightning on the horizon.  
  
As the cab travels down into Gotham City, Bruce takes note of one of the tallest buildings to occupy the skyline; a large multi-story building with a big bright W on top. “Look dad, Wayne tower! Home of Wayne Enterprises! How often do you work there?”  
  
“Honestly Bruce, I don’t go there much. I leave much better men in charge. Lucius Fox for example, is the man currently running the show. I make appearances when I need to but that’s not my cup of tea. I work at Gotham General. But in ten years, if you so desire, you can run Wayne Enterprises. That’s if you decide to not be whatever you want.”  
  
Bruce listened to his father as he looked up at the gigantic tower. Being a kid, he gets asked what he wants to do all the time and being head of Wayne Enterprises has never been a number one answer. Bruce was always drawn to being a police officer; protecting people would be the best thing to do in his mind…  
  
“Here we are everyone. The Monarch Theater.” The cab driver announces as he pulls up in front of a brightly lit red building. On the doors, signs reading “The Legend of Zorro” are seen plastered everywhere. “Here it is!” Bruce thinks as he begins to pull his parents towards the door. As it closes behind the Wayne family, a clap of thunder like the sound of a cannon rings out through the streets and Mother Nature does her worst to Gotham City. 

XX

Sitting in the break room of the Gotham Central Police Department building, Lieutenant James Gordon is making a cup of coffee. A dark and stormy night only means one thing as a cop in Gotham City. The criminals crawl out of its insides like cockroaches. Coffee is the only thing that will get him through his ten hour shift. As he finishes stirring his coffee from putting cream and sugar in it, a call comes across his walkie-talkie from an officer downtown.  
  
Gordon hears the call going off on every officer’s radio. This is just the start of what will be a long night.  
  
“Every available officer, please respond. There has been a double homicide in the alley behind the Monarch Theater.” 

XXI

“That was absolutely incredibly awesome! I wish we could go back in a see it right now! Can we!?”  
  
“No Bruce. Right now we have to get out and fight the people and the storm.” His mother answered.  
  
In the grand entrance to the theater, hundreds of people are gathered, either waiting for a cab in front of the theater or for the rain to stop or just taking up space. Frustrated, Thomas grabs his wife and son and starts to lead them to a side exit.  
  
“Thomas, where are we going?” Martha asked her husband as he opens the door to a wet alley.  
  
“It will be easier to get a cab away from the theater. Come on, just two blocks down there’s a club, The Iceberg Lounge I think. There will be plenty of cabs circling around out there.”  
  
He continues to lead his family down the rain soaked alley as Martha opens her umbrella and pulls Bruce under, keeping them from getting any more wet from the pouring rain. Focused on where they are going, no one notices a shadow slip up from beside a dumpster and begin to follow the family. About halfway down the alley, the Wayne’s hear a metallic click followed by a gruff, hurt voice.  
  
“I know who you are. You’re the Wayne’s. You have money and it just so happens I need some. Give it up.”  
  
The three members of the Wayne family turn to see a rough edged middle aged man in a rain soaked denim jacket and pants pointing a gun straight at them. 

XXII

“Hey take it easy man. Here, this is all we have. Just. Put the gun down.” Thomas Wayne says very calmly to the man behind the weapon.  
  
The robber looks at the family individually, stopping on Martha Wayne. “She has some nice jewelry, I’ll take that too.”  
  
The robber turns the gun on Martha, who screams in fear. Thomas jumps in front of her, just to put distance in between the attacker and his soon to be victim. But Thomas Wayne’s action to defend his wife cost him dearly. Startled by the sudden movement, a flash of light not from the storm and a sound louder than any thunder rings out in the enclosed alley and Thomas Wayne falls unmoving to the ground.  
  
Martha Wayne falls on top of him, physically unhurt but emotionally mortified. He husband was gunned down defending her.  
  
“Jewelry! Now! And stop screaming or you’ll get the same thing he did.” The robber commands.  
  
Struggling to remove her jewelry and contain her emotion, Martha covers up Thomas, as if to protect him, trying to call to him, to bring him back to life. Just then, the same flash and sound that preceded the fall of Thomas Wayne was also witnessed, then silence. No thunder and no screaming Martha Wayne as she lay dead on top of her husband.  
  
The robber bends down and rips the pearls off the dead Wayne’s neck. Just as he begins to walk away, he takes note of a young boy standing behind his parent’s dead bodies.  
  
“What’s up buddy? I didn’t see you there. Must have been leading your parents out of the dark scary alley huh?”  
  
Actually, Bruce had been pushed behind his parents when his father turned around and faced the murderer. Bruce didn’t say anything to the attacker, stunned in fear.  
  
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t leave any witnesses.” The murderer said and turned the machine that killed the kid’s parent’s right into his face. 

XXIII

Bruce Wayne remains silent as he stares down the barrel of the gun that just murdered his parents in cold blood. Expecting to hear the noise louder than the surrounding thunder, Bruce clenches his fists and falls down on top of his parent’s bodies. The rain had already started to mix with the blood but Bruce didn’t care. He was holding on to whatever bit of his only friends he could, expecting the end.  
  
But he never did hear the sound.  
  
Looking up through a mixture of rain and tears on his face into the dim lights of the alley, Bruce sees dark shapes flying down and surrounding his attacker. A swarm of creatures continue to fly around and dive on the attacker, forcing him to drop his gun. As he turns to run away, the swarm of creatures continues to chase him off. Hearing the high shrill screech of the animal, Bruce knew exactly what saved his life and scared away the attacker.  
  
Bats.  
  
Only being able to assume that the two gunshots that murdered his parents awoke and angered them, those two gun shots essentially saved Bruce’s life. Somewhere behind him, Bruce hears people screaming about calling the police and a murder; but Bruce can only do two things: Hold on to the remains of his family and focus on the bats that scared away the murderer. 

XXIV

James Gordon takes his coat off and puts it around the shoulders of Bruce Wayne in his office at the Gotham City Police Department building.  
  
“We have to get you out of these wet clothes. Alfred is on his way with some dry ones, I called him on my way here. Is there anything else I can get you Bruce?”  
  
Bruce Wayne says nothing as he stares at the floor of the police officer’s office. Suddenly, a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder are seen and heard, causing Bruce Wayne to flinch in fear, still expecting the end he should have faced before the Bats intervened. As he jumped, he is caught by the arms of the police officer comforting him.  
  
“It’s okay Bruce. Everything will be okay.” Gordon whispers to the child, trying his best to comfort him.  
  
For the second time in the same week, James Gordon is forced to comfort a child who has lost his parents in a tragic accident. He didn’t what is causing all the chaos to destroy these children’s lives but he can’t have it rest on his conscience. Secretly he vows to find the murderers if it takes him his entire career.  
  
A knock rings out on the door, as a young female officer sticks her head it.  
  
“Lieutenant, we know who it was. Joe Chill. That’s who the gun was registered to anyway.”  
  
Relieved (and thinking that this may be easier than expected), Gordon holds Bruce straight by the shoulders and looks at him. “You hear that son? We got him. We know who did it.”  
  
Bruce hears what he said but can’t quite process it. Looking up into the florescent lights, another crack of lightning and thunder sound from outside. But this time Bruce doesn’t shy away. He turns to Gordon and says the first thing since before his parents were murdered.  
  
“There were bats. The bats chased him away. Or else he would have killed me too. But the bats. They scared him. Did you see?”

XXV

In Metropolis, Thomas Elliot is sitting on an old blue couch in his Aunt Maggie’s condo watching a Metropolis Lasers hockey game when a breaking news broadcast interrupts the game’s overtime.  
  
“We are sorry to interrupt the regularly scheduled program to bring you this breaking news. We have had many reports to us and now it is confirmed that a deadly double homicide has occurred in downtown Gotham City. Thomas and Martha Wayne were gunned down by a robber demanding money and jewelry. Their son Bruce is still at G.C.P.D. Headquarters being questioned and awaiting the arrival of his butler who we can only speculate is now his legal guardian. We will have more on this as the story develops…”  
  
Overhearing the broadcast from the kitchen, Thomas’ aunt calls out “Isn’t that the same Bruce Wayne that was your friend in Gotham?”  
  
Tommy doesn’t answer but instead walks over to the window facing west toward Gotham. A storm is rolling across the sky, heading toward Metropolis and in the distant lightning; Thomas Elliot feels gratitude knowing that Bruce Wayne is suffering as he is. If only Bruce Wayne would have fallen this night too. Then Tommy could truly feel happy. 

 

Part II

 

14 Years Later

 

 

I

Its graduation time at Gotham University as Dean Pelington calls the last name of the Law School graduates. Next up is the Medical School and all of its graduates. As the dean readies the list of graduates, the members of the school line up in alphabetical order to be called by name.  
  
Doing yet another mindless task by standing in line, a young man looks up at the warm spring sky on midday in Gotham City. The GU campus was always very pretty in winter, especially if it snowed. But in spring time, the trees and flowers were all in bloom making GU resemble a breathtaking garden. It was almost as if someone took winters chill from Gotham City itself and gave birth to a warm bundle of spring.  
  
This young man stands in line looking up at the sky and thinks two things:  
  
“I wish my mother was here to see this and thank God graduation was almost over.”  
  
As he begins to move forward in the line, his mind begins to drift back to his childhood, which is something he actively tries to avoid. His childhood was a dark time, especially after the accident. It was his entire fault that his mother suffered the way she did. His father on the other hand deserved everything that was dealt his way.  
  
The man is brought out of his trance by the person behind him in line, and he hears the dean calling his name from the stage. Finally the piece of paper that will prove he wasted his parent’s fortune at medical school.  
  
The dean calls his name again, more urgently: “Thomas Elliot!” 

II

Victor Zsasz was now 25 years old and still enjoyed living with his parents. Being teased in every school he went to, his parents decided to have someone come into their home and teach him one on one. It was very safe to say that Victor Zsasz is not a people person.  
  
After his parents went out for a boat ride on a warm spring morning, Victor had the house on the lake front just to himself. Starting to get a little concerned that his parents had been gone since 11:30am and it was rounding to 5:00pm now, Victor walked over to his own personal liquor cabinet in his basement and made a stiff Vodka Tonic, just like back in the motherland.  
  
As Victor sits down in his basement living room (his parents made it basically a suite for their son), he turns on the television just as the telephone rings. Never really answering the phone before, he hesitates, but decides he has to anyway.  
  
“Er. Hello?” Victor says in an almost fluent English accent.  
  
“May I speak with Victor Zsasz please?” The man on the other end sounded stern and tired.  
  
Never having had a personal phone call before, Victor is taken aback at the request.  
  
“This is me. Can I help you?”  
  
“Victor, my name is police commissioner Loeb of the Gotham City Police Department. We are going to need you to come downtown. We have some bad news.”  
  
“What has happened? I don’t understand! I didn’t do anything wrong!”  
  
“Victor, you did nothing wrong. We just need you to come down to the police station.” The commissioner responded.  
  
Defiantly, Victor refuses. “If I have done nothing wrong, I don’t see why I have to come to your department. I have no reason to.”  
  
“Victor, your parents were killed in a boating accident. Their boat hit a tree trunk sticking up in the lake and got a hole in the hull. Your parents tried to get out but drown in the lake. We need you to come down and identify the bodies. Does that make you want to come to our station?”  
  
Victor Zsasz sat speechless. His parents… were dead? No part of his brain could grasp this information and process it. The only people he thought were normal in the world were gone from him. He could hear the commissioner’s voice still speaking on the telephone but he walked over and put it back on the receiver. He remembered his father’s words to him the day he turned 18.  
  
“Victor, when we die, all we have is now yours. Your name will be on everything it needs to be. Remember that if anything happens to us, go to the safe in our bedroom and put in the code 1-9-9-3.There will be the cards containing all of our money. Use it well.”  
  
That conversation played back in Victor’s mind the entire time as he walked from his basement suite to his parents’ bedroom on the third flood, drink in hand. Once there, he walks past their king bed to the closet where the safe was contained. When he enters the code 1-9-9-3, the safe door springs open. Revealed are the cards Victor’s father spoke of as well as all the papers he would need. A deed to the mansion. Titles to all the cars. The boat… All in Victors name.  
  
He carries everything to his parent’s bed and looks down. “I’ve lost everything. I don’t care about this money. I just don’t understand why they had to die. Why them? Why none of the other zombies? I don’t understand.”  
  
III

In his dorm room at Gotham University, Thomas Elliot is almost finished packing to move into his new apartment downtown near Gotham General, where he had just accepted a new job. As he is pulling out books from his desk, an unopened envelope falls from between two shelved books.  
  
Curious, he puts the two books in the box on his desk, aptly marked BOOKS and bends down to look at the fallen envelope. On the front and center reads:  
  
Thomas Elliot  
902 Hitch Hall  
Gotham University 12345  
  
In the corner was a stamp with Gotham’s most famous landmark: Wayne Tower. But it was the return address that puzzled Thomas so much.  
  
Bruce Wayne  
Wayne Manor  
  
IV

Victor Zsasz took to the streets of Gotham City upon inheriting the fortune from his parents. Feeling like he has no purpose left in life anymore and having done nothing to warrant this despair, Victor falls into a downward spiral of depression. Before he leaves, he walks into the bathroom and pulls of the electric razor that his parents used to cut his hair as a child. Staring into his own blue eyed reflection in the mirror, Victor runs the razor through his hair, taking it completely off. After a few moments Victor is now staring into the eyes of a man he didn’t recognize. No more blond hair and soft features are on his face. He takes the bottle of Vodka his family brought with them from Russia and decides to walk the streets of Gotham City alone and unarmed at night.  
  
By the time he makes it to downtown Gotham, he has already finished the bottle he brought with him and half of another he bought from a gas station on his walk. As he turns the corner by the Monarch Theater, he sees a bright blue sign above the sidewalk for a night club a block away called The Iceberg Lounge.  
  
As he walks up to the club, he walks straight past the line waiting to get in and slips the bouncer a $100 bill. The big man wearing a name tag that says ‘S. Grundy’ on it, looks down at the bill, then jerks his head back, as if saying the bald man can enter the club.  
  
Inside, Victor looks around at the flashing lights and show girls and just the vast amount of people in the club. At a few tables near the back, he notices some men gambling and decides that’s where he wants to be. He had money so why not spend it? He heads to the back and takes a seat next to two men before the game begins. One a short and fat British man with a really long beak nose and the other a rather taller, lean man about the same age as Victor, but for reasons he didn’t know, the man was wearing a black mask in a dark night club like this. 

V

Victor could not figure out how or why he was losing all of his money. Sure he is gambling and that does happen but here is no way the fat British man with a long beaked nose (who he learned was named Oswald Cobblepot), was winning every single hand of Texas Hold’Em and blackjack they played. Victor came into the Iceberg Lounge with his parent’s entire fortune (including the mansion and cars) but with the help of the few bottles of vodka he had and the almost certain illegal ways Cobblepot was playing, he was down to his last few dollars in a matter of an hour and a half.  
  
As he the last of his remaining money on the table for one final game, a thought crosses his mind. Why was he still playing? There was no point in continuing to play. The reason he came to the club was to lose everything his parents left him and to try and escape what happened. Without waiting for the final hand to be dealt, Victor throws the money on the table and walks away, just like that. Oswald Cobblepot was shocked and turned to the man in the mask and asked what just happened, not sure entirely what to do.  
  
Victor walked past the guard who tipped his mafia style hat in acknowledgement and kept standing there, acting like a dead wall. He walked the way he had come, knowing exactly where he is going; The Gotham Bridge. It’s on his way back to the mansion which is no longer his anymore. All he cares about is hitting the water under the bridge hard enough he doesn’t wake up.  
  
It’s a dark night in Gotham as Victor climbs up the dimly lit blue bridge. There are no cars for miles on either side of him and no sign of anyone else. He slowly climbs up onto a light pillar and looks down. Satisfied with the height and knowing it will be enough to do what he wishes; he thinks one last time about his mother and father. They are gone and so is everything they left him. The money. The cars. The house. All gone to the fat man and his sidekick in the mask back at the club. What else is there to live for?  
  
Just from behind him, he heard something he did not expect; a voice in need and in pain. “Money... I… I need money… Please”  
  
Victor turned around a saw a homeless man standing in front of him. He had long greasy blond hair and a long coat reaching the ground even though it is almost summer.  
  
“I don’t have any. I’m sorry.” Victor managed to say.  
  
Just as he tried to turn around, the homeless man pulled a hunting knife from one of the coat pockets.  
  
“Then I guess I’ll have to take it.” 

VI

Thomas Elliot is staring down at the letter he uncovered in disbelief. How could he have not opened this for months? Looking at the date on the letter, understanding comes abruptly across his face.  
  
The letter was dated Feb. 23 of that year; the day after his mother died. She passed away 14 years after the crash that left her brain damaged. She had no recollection of Thomas but she remembered her husband, and upon learning of his death, she took up heavy smoking and drinking when she was able to be without need of medical service for her injuries. She died of throat cancer and liver failure soon after.  
  
Tommy stood in his room alone trying to decide what to do; burn the letter and continue on with his life or read it against his better judgment. And the latter is exactly what he did. 

VII

Feb 23  
  
Tommy, 

I’m sorry to hear of your loss. Your mother was a great woman and she didn’t deserve what happened. No one does.  
  
Listen, I wanted to apologize for not writing for the past 14 years. It killed me having no one to talk to after I left Gotham. Which I am also sorry about. But it just so happened that we both left together right?  
  
Look, I’ll be back in Gotham soon. I know you don’t get out of college until May so what do you say you come over to my place on May 15th? We’ll have some drinks and who knows, the Knights may still be playing. 7pm?  
  
Hope to see you then.  
  
Bruce Wayne  
Tommy looked at his calendar. The 15th is tomorrow. 

VIII

The homeless man swung the knife with a load of authority and vengeance. Victor tried his best to fight back but could only do his best to dodge the slashes and flashes of stainless steel.  
  
Seeing an opportunity in the flurry of swipes, he grabs the homeless man’s wrist and bends it the opposite way, snapping the bones with a simple bend and twist motion. Out of anger or fear or a mixture of both, Victor grabs the knife and puts it at the throat of the homeless man.  
  
Looking into his eyes, Victor sees nothing. No sense of life or meaning. The man is a shell, a zombie. He is here serving no purpose, so why is he here at all? He leans down and whispers into the man’s ear “I will save you from this Hell.”  
  
He slits the man’s throat with the knife that almost took his a minute before. Right there on the Gotham Bridge, Victor has an epiphany that changes his life forever.  
  
“I am here to save everyone. All of the mindless zombies here, suffering with breath. They all serve no purpose. But as long as I am on this earth, I have found mine. I am here to save them, to release them from this torment. I will liberate them of this inferno.”  
  
He looks down at his left forearm, just shy of where he broke the homeless man’s wrist. With the hunting knife, he makes a tally mark deep enough to draw blood and scar when it is fully healed. Victor decides right then he is to keep a tallied record of how many souls he saves from this earth.  
  
Victor Zsasz has now has a purpose on this earth, unlike anyone who he is trying to help. 

IX

Thomas Elliot is sitting in his new Forest Green Subaru Outback, a gift from his Aunt in Metropolis for graduating college, in the dirt and gravel driveway outside of Wayne Manor. The problem is that he can’t decide if he should go in or drive away while he has the chance.  
  
In the very fiber of his being, Thomas still blames Bruce for his mother staying alive and suffering for another 14 years. And secretly, he is mad that Bruce hadn’t written in the past 14 years either. Shaking his head as if to say, don’t do it, Thomas Elliot gets out of the car and walks up to the front door of Wayne Manor.  
  
He knocks three times on the large Victorian door, looks around the house and suddenly changes his mind. As he turns to head back to his car, the large wooden door opens, revealing an elderly British man dressed in all black.  
  
“Ah Mr. Elliot. Bruce wasn’t sure you would come. He’s just through here, waiting for you. Come on in.” 

X

As Tommy follows the Butler into the foyer and to the entertainment room on the left by the stairs, he notices that nothing has changed in the mansion. There are still all the same oil paintings hanging on the walls and suits of armor in the same places as he can remember from the last time he was here when he was 10.  
  
“Master Bruce, Thomas Elliot is here for you.” Alfred announces when they arrive in the room.  
  
As if he was sitting on a spring, Bruce Wayne popped right up and greeted him. Bruce was now 22 years old and way more muscular than Thomas ever thought Bruce would get. He was a very handsome man with stiff black hair and soft facial features and a clean shave. His upper body was just a mass of muscle which Tommy was sure the ladies wouldn’t mind, aside from the money. But it only took a moment for him to decide that coming was a mistake. Bruce Wayne looks just like his father did. The same man who made his mother suffer for 14 more years.  
  
As Bruce sits back down in a beige chair, he hands Tommy a beer, straight from the Gotham Brewery downtown. He remains silent as he sits down opposite him on the matching sofa, not knowing how to address his once only friend. He looks up at the large 60 inch television hanging above the mantle and notices a live broadcast of a Gotham Knights game. It looks like they did make the playoffs. And they are playing the Metropolis Lasers; the 100 mile rivalry.  
  
“Well, I guess I should start explaining what’s happened to me these past 14 years…” Bruce interjected.  
  
Thomas remained silent and watched the game as the Metropolis Lasers just took a 2-1 lead.

XI

“When my parents died, I had nowhere to go and no one to turn too. Alfred was technically my guardian and he took me in for a couple weeks until he got in touch with my uncle in South Korea.” Bruce started his story here, having already planned part of this out in his mind.  
  
“In the middle of that March, I moved to Seoul with my Uncle Philip and left everything here in Gotham behind. You see, Philip is also a part of Wayne Enterprise. My father put him in charge of the branch in Seoul to take care of all the Asian ventures the company decides to get involved in.  
  
“Philip was gone a lot with work and what not so I was left alone most of the time. I didn’t know the language or the culture or anybody there for that matter. I was more alone there than I would have been here. At least here I would have had Alfred. So I read. And read some more. I took it upon myself to learn as much as I could. I guess you could say my only friends were all of the books I picked up and read.  
  
“When I got to become a teenager, I took up martial arts. Philip paid someone to come once a day for a few hours to teach me all he could. Mainly to defend myself I suppose, since I was alone all of the time. I mastered everything my teacher had to teach me by the time I was 19 and had nothing left to do there. So I decided to go to college. Law School.  
  
“I hated it. I used to want to be a police officer when I was little but I tell you, the system is corrupt. It is rare to find a good cop anywhere and in Gotham, I doubt you would find one at all. I left law school a year before I would have graduated. I didn’t want to become another crooked line following the path of greed. So I did what my father would have wanted. I came back to Gotham to head Wayne Enterprise.”  
  
Thomas Elliot did not say one word as he sat on the couch listening. All he could think was it is Bruce’s fault his mother lived to suffer another 14 years. He didn’t want to hear Bruce’s sob story, he couldn’t honestly care one bit. And if Bruce keeps sitting in that chair, telling a pity story, Tommy is certainly going to let him know how he feels. 

XII

Bruce takes a break from his story to down the rest of his Gotham Brew. As he sets it down next to the six pack -which now has four left- he looks up at the television. The Gotham Knights are down 3-2 with less than a minute left in the game. And it’s game seven. It looks like the Knights season is over.  
  
Looking across to Tommy Elliot, Bruce remembers one of the best times of his childhood. “Hey Tommy, do you remember when my dad took us to the game when the Knights won The Kane Cup? Wow was that a memorable experience. I still have the puck with me somewhere I bet.”  
  
Bruce thought this would be a way to connect with his old friend who had been very silent and didn’t even look at Bruce. Instead, he got a very unpredictable reaction.  
  
Thomas jolted up from the couch and threw his beer bottle onto the hardwood floor, shattering it everywhere. “It’s your fault you know. All of it. You did this to me. To my mother.”  
  
Thomas Elliot turns and rushes out of the door to the foyer, taking care to bump into Alfred, who had come to investigate the sound of breaking glass. Following him to the door, speechless, Bruce stares as the dirt from the driveway builds up and he can only see the red taillights of Elliot’s Subaru leaving his mansion.  
  
“Well, I suppose it is a good thing you didn’t tell him Master Bruce.” Alfred said, appearing behind him in the doorway looking outside.  
  
“I was going to Alfred. I really was. He was my best friend and I thought he deserved to know, maybe even want to help me. But I could tell something was up. He wouldn’t look at me and barely said two words.”  
  
Bruce turns left from the doorway to head into the study. As he walks away he hears Alfred call “Lucius will be here shortly. Don’t forget.”  
  
“I won’t Alfred. I need some modifications to the suit.” 

XIII

Thomas Elliot pulls over his Green Subaru Outback once he knows he is out of sight of Wayne Manor. In his mind, he has numerous thoughts screaming and fighting for attention, he doesn’t know what to do or what to even focus on.  
  
“Bruce Wayne looks just like his father did, and he’s the one who saved my mother in the first place. Since he got what he deserved, it all falls onto Bruce.  
  
“Bruce Wayne needs to suffer before he dies. Just like my mother did. And like I did in Metropolis. But how?  
  
“Perhaps I can kill his father’s doctor friends I now work with at Gotham General. Yes, that would work but they aren’t close enough to Bruce. What about Wayne Enterprise Board members? They are much closer to Bruce, some of which are dear friends to him and his family. That is a great idea.”  
  
He looks into the passenger seat and sees the newspaper he was reading before he left for Bruce’s mansion. The headline reads: “Wayne Enterprise plans announcement conference outdoors tomorrow.”  
  
Thomas Elliot must be in attendance for this conference. He unbuckles his seat belt and reaches into the back seat, looking for a graduation gift he got. Eventually, he pulls a surgeons kit from under the back seat.  
  
He opens it up to reveal a plethora of bandages and gauze tape and gloves. He opens the bandages and begins wrapping them around every inch of his body, starting with his head. No one will know who he is. He takes the surgical gloves and puts them on, then continues to wrap bandages around himself.  
  
As he is stripped nude, wrapping bandages all around, his mind wonders back to the evening before his father died. He had beaten his mom and Tommy had enough. He tried to stand up to him, to protect his mother. All he got in return was a punch to the ribs. In his room after his father had passed out, Tommy’s mom came in and held her son close. Trying not to cry, his mother whispered to him: “Tommy, you can’t do that anymore. It will end badly. Just ignore it and let it be... Hush. Just let it go. Hush. Shh, don’t cry. Just Hush.” 

XIV

Lucius Fox arrives at Wayne Manor right on time in his black Mercedes Benz S250. He always told people it was a company car through Wayne Enterprise but secretly, it was his pride and joy. He walks up to the grand entrance and knocks three times, and is soon greeted by an old friend.  
  
“Good evening Mr. Fox. It’s sure nice to have you back in Wayne Manor once again.”  
  
Alfred answers the door and sees exactly who he expected. An aged African American male with salt and pepper hair and a smile from ear to ear.  
  
“Yes Alfred. Yes it is. It’s also very nice that Bruce is back. I’m so glad to hear it.”  
  
“Not as much as I am Mr. Fox. Not near as much. Follow me if you please.”  
  
Alfred leads Lucius to the left from the door, and into the study room. Lucius stands back at the doorway, expecting Alfred just had to pick something up before continuing on through the house. Instead, Alfred walks over to an old grandfather clock and begins to mess with the hands of it. When he shifts the clock hands to 9:30, to Lucius’ great surprise, the clock opened up to reveal a dark opening in the wall and a staircase behind it.  
  
Smiling as he turns around, Alfred looks at Lucius and says “Please, Mr. Fox. After you. Oh, and watch your step in the dark.”  
  
Lucius walks through the study, noticing a grand piano in the corner and centimeters of dust on the books that appear to have not been touched except by Alfred in the last ten years. As Lucius walks past Alfred and begins to descend the staircase into darkness, Alfred closes the clock behind them. Lucius uses his hands to steady himself in the dark as he descends in complete blackness.  
  
Once he reaches the bottom step, a flash of lights nearly blinds him and stuns him for a moment. From behind him, he hears Alfred announce:  
  
“Master Bruce, Lucius Fox is here to see you.”

XV

Bruce gets up from an enormous screen which can only be a television or massive computer and jogs over to greet Lucius Fox.  
  
“Lucius, thanks for coming. I’m glad you were able to make it.”  
  
“I admit I was shocked when I got a letter from you requesting that suit. I knew it was only a matter of time before I got a personal invitation. Care to show me around this here… uh cave?”  
  
Bruce laughs as he jerks his neck in a ‘follow me’ fashion. They head to the left to start, to an empty circular concrete pad.  
  
“This is where I’ll park my car. That’s something else I need to ask you about. Is there anything that will fit the style of the suit and get me around Gotham very quickly hidden at Wayne Enterprises?”  
  
“Mr. Wayne there is just about anything stored below Wayne Tower. I’m sure I will be able to find something.”  
  
Bruce nods and continues the tour. “There’s a lot of room for expansion if I ever need to but for now, the parking pad, computer, motion lights and equipment drawers are working just fine.”  
  
As they near the computer, Bruce turns right and leads them to a table with a suit of armor on it. This however isn’t the same type of medieval armor that is set up in the foyer of Wayne Mansion.  
  
“Does this look familiar Lucius?” Bruce asks as the trio separates around the table.  
  
“This is the suit I sent you last month. But it appears you did some work to it.”  
  
They all look down. Lucius takes note to the modifications Bruce has done to the armor. He painted it gun metal grey, first of all. He cut different pieces to fit his body size. And most notably, there is a dark black shape of a bat painted right across the chest.  
  
XVI  
  
“Well Mr. Wayne, I see the changes you made to it and I’ve never been one to ask questions so I won’t. All I will say is I am honored to help a dear friend.”  
  
Bruce always appreciated Lucius’ modesty and is glad he agrees to aid Bruce in whatever he needs.  
  
“The suit is too heavy. I’ve put it on here and practiced on a simulator over there in the cave. I move way to slow. I need to be faster. Much faster.”  
  
“I’ll see what I can do. Box it up and I’ll take it with me when I leave. It might take a while to get though. Not sure what I’ll be able to do to it. Didn’t you say in your letter there was going to be someone else here tonight as well?”  
  
Bruce doesn’t respond to Lucius’ question but walks over to the computer behind them. On the enormous screen, a background check and complete history of Thomas Elliot is seen. It gives all of his personal information such as his birthdate, social security number, height and weight. Everything.  
  
“Well he was here, but he just flipped out on me, saying his father’s death was my fault and so was his mother’s suffering. I could tell something was up so in a sense, it’s a good thing he left. Or else he would be down here with us.”  
  
The three men look up at the screen and read the history of Thomas Elliot. He moved to Metropolis after his parents’ accident. When he was 18, he moved back to Gotham and attended Gotham University. His mother died from injuries suffered from the accident 14 years ago in February. He took a job as a surgeon at Gotham General a week before his graduation from GU. Bruce sees nothing to help aid his suspicion of Thomas Elliot.  
  
“So what’s been going on at Wayne Enterprises since I’ve been gone?” Bruce asks Lucius.  
  
“How much time do you have?” He responded with a smile, picking up the box containing the suit Bruce inquired about.  
  
Bruce leads Lucius and Alfred back upstairs and through the clock shaped opening. When he closes it and turns the hands from 9:30, Lucius realizes that 9:30 was the time Bruce’s parents were murdered in the alley that dark February night 14 years ago.

XVII

In the entertainment room of Wayne Manor, Lucius picks up a beer from the pack of four remaining on the coffee table. On the television is a special being run about the end of the Gotham Knights season. After taking a few swigs from the bottle, Lucius turns to Bruce from the television.  
  
“The company has been running really well. As you know, your father didn’t have much to do with it anyway besides appearances. We have a conference planned tomorrow morning announcing the buyout of Sionis Industries.”  
  
Bruce is puzzled at that statement, wondering how the Sionis family business lost its way. “Sionis Industries as in Roman Sionis’ family business? How’s that possible?”  
  
“Roman’s mother and father died in a fire almost two years ago Bruce. I’m sorry I didn’t send you a letter but I figured you would find out soon enough. Roman inherited the company from his parents after they died.” Alfred explains as Bruce sits down on the couch, speechless.  
  
“Roman’s run everything from behind closed doors since his parents died.” Lucius adds. “The board members at Wayne Enterprises, myself included, expect mob connections. None of us wanted that to happen so we decided to spend a bit more money and absorb the company’s assets.”  
  
As Bruce sits on the couch, a thought crosses his mind and is eager to hear Lucius’ response to it.  
  
“Let me announce the merger. Roman was my friend. And I want to be a part of what my father’s legacy built there. It also gives Gotham a chance to see that I’m back.”  
  
“Mr. Wayne, you technically are the boss now that you’re back. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Be there at 8:30 tomorrow morning.”  
  
“I too think it’s a great idea Master Bruce.” Alfred chimed in. “You haven’t left the bloody house since you’ve been back. It will do you some good to get out and about for a change.”  
  
Lucius states that he needs to get home and prepare for the conference tomorrow so Bruce and Alfred lead him out to his black Mercedes parked outside.  
  
“Did Wayne Enterprises buy this for you Lucius?” Bruce asks as he admires the beautiful piece of German engineering.  
  
“Honestly no. It’s my own toy. But I tell everyone it’s a company car. Makes the company look sharp buying these kinds of vehicles for their employees. All I’m missing is the giant W on the side.”  
  
As he loads the box with the suit in the trunk, he turns around and informs Bruce that he will have whatever he can find below the tower towed to him tomorrow after the conference to fill the parking pad in the cave.  
  
“Let’s call it a ‘side project’ for Wayne Enterprises”.  
  
Bruce smiles as he watches Lucius drive the same path Thomas Elliot did a few hours before. 

XVIII

On a warm, dark night in Gotham City, Victor Zsasz is stalking the streets looking for another soul that needs to be saved. Across from the cold alley he has been living in, a night club is allowing its workers to go home after their shift. Victor takes notice to a particular female with exceptional curves walking all alone.  
  
“Something will happen to her. I need to help her.” Victor thinks as he gets up and begins to trail her.  
  
The girl has luscious flowing blond hair down to the middle of her back in a ponytail. She’s walking in what Victor thinks are at least three inch heels, with a red mini skirt and white tank top, revealing her features quite well.  
  
As she walks through the parking lot of a closed gas station, she turns down a dark side alley. Now is his chance.  
  
Victor rushes up behind her not making a sound. From the pocket in his cargo pants, he produces the same hunting knife that almost took his life. From behind the girl, he reaches around and in one swift motion, he slits her throat. With blood pouring from the wound, she falls to the ground, not moving again.  
  
Victor looks down at his left forearm. The first tally mark has healed well and is beginning to scar. The second however, is a bit more fresh, but scabbing nonetheless. He then takes the knife, still stained red from the club workers blood; he makes his third tally mark.  
  
Three zombies saved. Countless others to go. 

  


XIX

Outside of Wayne Tower, a small event stage is set up with a podium and a few microphones on it. A few feet in front, facing the stage is a small area for reporters who are filing in as usual for the conference. Behind the reporters are rows for anyone to come and attend the conference, which those seats usually fill up with stock holders or mobsters or anyone interested in the business of Wayne Enterprises.  
  
As Lucius Fox walks onto the stage and up to the podium dressed in a woolen gray suit, the crowd which was murmuring before becomes silent and respectful of the speaker.  
  
“We only have a few things to cover today and with the forecasted heat, we’d like to make this nice and quick.” Lucius tells the crowd gathered before him.  
  
“First and foremost, allow me to introduce the man that will carry out the rest of this conference and the new and rightful head of Wayne Enterprises: Bruce Wayne!”  
  
The crowd of reporters and spectators alike erupt in a flurry of gasps and cheers and praise as the 22 year old billionaire walks onto the stage with his well-tailored suit and muscular build.  
  
“First off, I’d like to thank Lucius Fox and the rest of the board members for holding down the fort while I was gone. You have done a great job and I’m sure my father would be proud.  
  
“Next, as head of Wayne Enterprise, I’d like to announce the buyout of the famed Sionis Industries. Their company was having a bit of trouble so we here decided to absorb their assets and help them out as much as we can.”  
  
The reporters immediately start yelling out questions and snapping pictures but Bruce only notices one thing: a tall figure in the spectator section of the crowd looking dumbfounded and furious. Roman Sionis.  
  
Making eye contact, Roman gets up and nearly runs from the conference. Bruce is confused as to why Roman would leave like that but had no time to think as the reporters began bombarding him with more questions. Trying to answer them as much as he could, he directed most of them to Lucius Fox who could answer them much better than Bruce. 

As Lucius takes the stand to answer the questions, Bruce is tapped on the shoulder by a news reporter with a microphone and a notepad. She is shorter than Bruce and had very beautiful features and blond hair chopped off around her shoulders with bright blue eyes. In Bruce’s eyes, this girl was gorgeous.  
  
“Bruce! My name is Vicki Vale with the Gotham Gazette. Would you mind answering a few questions for me?” 

XX

Victor Zsasz is once again wandering the streets of Gotham but in the daylight for a change. Trying to find a new alley he can stay in and maybe a quick shower in the park, he happens to walk right in front of Wayne Enterprises. With nothing else to do, Victor decides to take an open seat and watch the Zombies go about their daily life.  
  
Not long after he takes a seat and the man at the podium announces the buyout of some company by some other one, Victor notices something that really sparks his interest. A taller figure gets up and almost runs through the crowd. Watching him as he goes, Victor sees the man slip on a mask once he’s away from the people. That mask.  
  
“That’s the man from the Iceberg Lounge where I lost my money! Where is he going off to like that!?”  
  
Victor gets up to follow the man but is stopped by a bigger man wearing a trench coat. Wondering why the zombie was wearing a coat on day with projected 110 degree temperatures, he looks up to the man’s face and notices it’s wrapped in bandages. Shaking his head and muttering about how people need help, Victor takes off after Roman Sionis to find out what he is up to.  
  
***  
  
Seeing Bruce Wayne standing at the podium in front of Wayne Enterprises makes Thomas Elliot sick to his stomach. Standing in the back of the crowd, he is trying to find out who the board members are and who will Bruce miss the most.  
  
There’s the black man talking now. Lucius Fox. Then the few other members sitting on stage. But what really caught Elliot’s attention is the blond reporter that seemed to have Bruce caught up in a conversation. The problem is that reporting doesn’t require Bruce Wayne write his phone number on her notepad.  
  
Thomas Elliot now knows how to make Bruce Wayne suffer. 

XXI

Victor followed Roman Sionis all the way across town, just to see what he is doing and why he was at the press conference. Surely he had won enough money for a while from Victor that night at the Lounge, plus the funds from his company. What’s happened since then?  
  
As he peers into the kitchen window of the Sionis house through a garden of red roses and marigolds, he notices another figure he immediately recognizes: The fat British man that took his money and everything else. Oswald Cobblepot. There is however, another well-built muscular man in the kitchen with the two men Victor knew.  
  
Not being able to hear much of anything, he catches bits and pieces of the conversation, especially if the voices are raised. The muscular man is saying something along the lines of “We needed that money” in a faint Italian accent.  
  
“You think you can work for me?” Cobblepot chimed in, jabbing an umbrella at Roman.  
  
“I swear I didn’t know they were absorbing the company. I’ll get you the money.” Roman pleaded to the men. He looks up at the Italian man whose gaze is elsewhere. It’s looking right at Victor.  
  
Victor notices the man staring at him and vanishes before Roman and Cobblepot could get to the window. Looking out and seeing no one, Cobblepot turns back into the kitchen and makes a decision.  
  
“Roman, if you can get the money to me, you have nothing to worry about. But if not, I’m going to leave you to the Falcone crime family. They won’t be as forgiving as I am. Right Carmine?”  
  
The Italian man looks at Roman and shakes his head. “I don’t know Penguin. Perhaps you should stick that beak nose elsewhere. I don’t think this one will work out.” 

 

XXII

Back in the darkness of the cave beneath Wayne Manor, Bruce is painting a vehicle that looks similar to an Army Corps concept car; a hybrid between a tank and a jeep. It’s set up similar to a militia tank, but runs on four wheels and is made to disperse riots instead of face combat. Connected to a sprayer, Bruce has boxes and boxes of flat black spray paint and is covering the vehicle to match the black of his suit and outfit.  
  
As he nears completion of painting the Tumblr (the name Lucius told him Wayne Enterprises had given it), Alfred descends the dark stairs behind the study clock, bringing lunch to Bruce. He sets it on the table where the suit had been just the day before then turns to Bruce and explains Lucius called and said the suit will be ready in a few months and that he has multiple projects to work on before it.  
  
“I need it sooner. There has to be a way to get it done sooner. I’ll call him later.”  
  
“Bruce, are you sure you really want to do this? As a matter of fact, I don’t even know why you are doing this? What has brought this sudden madness about? I just don’t understand, and what I really don’t understand Master Bruce, is your obsession with these bats.”  
  
Bruce takes a seat at the table and pulls his lunch closer, admiring the well-made Turkey Club without the bacon, just like Bruce likes.  
  
“Alfred, this is something I have to do. I need to do it; for me, for my parents. Do you know the police never brought Joe Chill to justice? He murdered my parents in cold blood and would have killed me too without a second thought, and the authorities couldn’t place more than his gun at the scene. Law Enforcement is corrupted Alfred. It can’t be trusted. This city has fallen into the hands of greed and crookedness and something needs to change that.  
  
“Gotham needs a protector. Someone to watch over them at night when all of the trouble comes out and when no one else will. The innocent people need to be kept safe, unlike what happened to my parents.  
  
“The bats brought fear to Joe Chill. He fired two shots bringing my parents down. The sound of the gun scared the bats and they attacked, forcing him to flee. I want to be that symbol. A symbol of fear for the criminals to be afraid of.” 

 

XXIII

Around 3pm at Wayne Manor, a small red Honda Civic pulls up the dirt path to the front of the mansion. When the door opens, a shorter but very attractive blond female steps out and admires the garden she parked in front of. Turning and walking to the entrance of the mansion, Vicki Vale goes over the questions she has to ask Bruce Wayne.  
  
Sent here on a special assignment from the Gotham Gazette, she had been thinking of questions to ask to write a story about Gotham’s prince’s return to the city. Another reason she is excited however, is she thought Bruce Wayne was an incredibly attractive man whom she would love to go on a few dates with, but she has to remember not to show it and to be professional.  
  
After waiting a moment after knocking, a British man answers the door, apparently not expecting company.  
  
“Can I help you miss?” Alfred asked the young blond woman standing in front of him in the doorway.  
  
“I’m here to see Bruce Wayne if he’s available.”  
  
“You can wait in here out of the heat while I see if he is taking visitors.”  
  
As the butler walks down the foyer and turns right into the first door, Vicki steps inside and begins to admire the gothic art and architecture in the mansion. Certainly not her style but it is very impressive.  
  
“Vicki Vale. I wasn’t sure if you’d stop by when I wrote the address on your note pad this morning at the conference.”  
  
“I’m not going to miss out on the opportunity to ask the famous Bruce Wayne a few questions now am I? Come on now.”  
  
  
With a smile and a gleam in his brown eye, Bruce shrugs then leads her out into the garden, admiring the red Civic parked in front of house.  
  
“Company car from Gotham Gazette?” Bruce asks mockingly.  
  
“I wish!” Vicki replied. “If I was in a company car, you’d be looking at a plain white van with two G’s on the side. I slaved over three jobs in college for this. And it’s still getting me where I need to go.”  
  
Laughing, Bruce begins to walk around the garden, admiring Alfred’s gardening skills this past spring. “So what did you want to ask me Ms. Vale?”  
  
Looking down at her notepad for reminders, Vicki asks what Bruce thinks about James Gordon being promoted to Commissioner for the G.C.P.D.  
  
“I didn’t even know to be honest. I know he was a friend of my father’s but I’ve never met him outside of his work… I have a uh… mistrust of law enforcement and authority. I try to avoid those kinds of politics. “  
  
“I see. Well Wayne Enterprises also deals with some kinds of politics. Did Roman Sionis thank you for saving his company this morning?”  
  
Bruce thought for a moment in front of a white rose bush. Looking down at it and thinking it reminded him of Vicki’s brightness; he picks it and hands it to her. “No he didn’t. As a matter of fact, he took off from the conference entirely before it was even over.”  
  
Not sure of what to think about Bruce handing her a white rose, she needs to look back down at her notepad for guidance to question him again as her train of thought began to spin out.  
  
“Uhm… well can you tell me where you went 14 years ago after the accident?”  
  
“Don’t beat around the bush Vicki, it wasn’t an accident. My parents were murdered in cold blood and G.C.P.D. didn’t catch the man that did it. As for an answer to your question, I will tell you truthfully. I went to South Korea to live with my Uncle Phillip and attend school like everyone else and in the meantime, I learned the workings of Wayne Enterprises. See, my uncle runs the Asian venture of the company.”  
  
Before Vicki realized it, she and Bruce were almost back at her car, an obvious sign Bruce was ready to end the conversation. She feared she asked the wrong question and blew her chances to interview Bruce again but that thought was suddenly by Bruce’s voice.  
  
“Before you go Vicki, I have a couple of question for you.”  
  
Smiling, Vicki replies in a flirtatious manner “Oh so the tables have turned, haven’t they Bruce?”  
  
Acknowledging the comment with a smile, Bruce decides to be very blunt with two separate questions.  
  
“Ms. Vale, would it be a bother if A. I am able to receive you telephone number a B. Attend the Haly Circus with me in a few weeks on June 1st?”  
  
Somehow not surprised at the questions, Vicki turns her notepad she’d been carrying the entire walk to the last page and writes down her seven digit telephone number.  
  
“Call me whenever you want to Bruce Wayne. But I think I’ll have to see you again before the circus to make a definite answer.”  
  
With a wink after her response, Vicki climbs into the driver’s door of the Civic and leaves Bruce Wayne standing in the dirt path as she kicks up a cloud of dust behind her.  
  
Bruce is shocked at the response but looks down at the piece of paper he is holding in his hands. He’s only been back to Gotham for a small amount of time but already he has a beautiful girl’s telephone number and a date in two weeks. Shaking his head at himself and walking back to the mansion, Bruce Wayne feels accomplished.

XXIV

That night in the white halls of Gotham General, Thomas Elliot is getting off of work after his late night ER shift. A few hours ago, he ironically saved the life of a mother and father who had been in a severe car accident with a drunk driver. Their daughter will get to grow up with parents that care.  
  
In the break room as he is getting his things together, he finally gets up the nerve to ask this very pretty nurse back to his apartment for drinks. Cara Scott is in her final year of medical school at Gotham University and was lucky enough to get a job as a nurse before she graduated. Since the day she started, her vivid green eyes and long black hair have intrigued Tommy and finally, he has the courage to do what he has wanted to do for a long time and to his astonishment, she agrees to accompany him back to his apartment.  
  
In his apartment not far from Gotham General, Tommy and Cara head upstairs after a long night in the hospital. As Thomas unlocks the apartment door at 2:30 in the morning, he tells Cara where the drinks are and allows her to help herself.  
  
While she is making the drinks, Tommy goes to the bedroom and gets ready to do what he’s wanted to since he started his job. Putting on his surgical gloves and laying down a bit of plastic by the door, he calls to Cara in the kitchen and asks for help to untie his tie. Thinking this is just a ploy to get her into the bedroom with him; she slyly walks in, but sees no one.  
  
In one swift motion, Thomas Elliot closes the bedroom door which he had been hiding behind and removes his scalpel that he used earlier that night. With a flick of his wrist, he slashes across Cara’s throat, causing an waterfall of red liquid from the slit across her neck.  
  
As she lay dead on the floor, he automatically begins to take action on the disposal. Breaking both of her arms and legs, he is able to bend her body into a position to fit into a trash bag. Soon after the struggle of putting 120 pounds into a large plastic bag, he picks up the body bag and puts it in a cardboard box.  
  
Very slowly, Thomas is able to pull the box containing the body of Cara Scott down the fire escape of his apartment building from the third floor. Turing the box upside down, he is able to hide the body in a dumpster, knowing it will be picked up the following day.  
  
On his way back up to his apartment, Thomas Elliot recites the verses of Aristotle his mother made him memorize as a child. Yet he smiles, knowing one day, he will do this to the one that caused it all. Bruce Wayne. 

XXV

In the dark of Gotham’s city park, Victor Zsasz is following Roman Sionis with one intent in mind; to add another tally mark to his left arm.  
  
Victor never let Roman out of his sight since he left his house that morning after the conference. In his mind, Roman needed saving much more than a lot of others in this city and now would be his best opportunity.  
  
A thought has been pestering Victor’s subconscious since he left the Sionis house that morning; why was Victor wearing that wooden mask? The mask clings so firmly to his face that it looks as if it is all he has on his head, showing his facial features perfectly.  
  
As Victor followed Roman deeper into the park, sight became an increasingly difficult sense to use. The darkness was so deep that he couldn’t follow his target anymore. Frustrated but in need of someone to save, he begins to head back the way he came when he comes to a man standing at a payphone.  
  
Knowing it isn’t Roman Sionis, Victor stays true to his vow that he will save as many lost souls as possible. Walking up behind the man on the phone, he pulls the knife from his pants pocket and slits his throat in one fell swoop.  
  
Victor is frustrated that he couldn’t follow Sionis anymore so he decides to have some fun with the man he just saved. Not knowing who he was on the payphone with, Victor playfully puts the phone back into the man’s hand using a glove he had in his pocket so his fingerprints can’t be traced. He then stands him up with blood pouring from his mouth and throat, and leans him onto the phone booth he was just using. Perhaps it is the frustration and anger or just the mere coincidence of a prop, Victor for once had fun with his salvation today.  
  
Looking at his latest victim leaning on the payphone, he adds the tally mark intended for Roman on his arm, bringing the total to seven.  
  
XXVI

Walking around the grounds of Wayne Manor, Bruce is trying to think of how to invite Vicki Vale to Officer Gordon’s promotion ceremony as his date.  
  
Having just talked to Officer Gordon, Bruce was invited by the man of honor himself to the celebration. “I didn’t know until yesterday morning that you were back Mr. Wayne. I meant to call but simply was just too busy.”  
  
“Oh no worries Jim.” Bruce said. “I was just wondering if I’d be invited to your promotion celebration. Congratulations by the way.”  
  
“Thanks Bruce. Of course you and a date can come. I didn’t know that the owner of Wayne Enterprises needed a personal invitation. I thought you could just come to things like this.”  
  
“Haha. Well that’s not how I like it really. But thanks again. See you May 31st yes?”  
  
“Of course Bruce. It’s a pleasure.”  
  
Being aloud a date to the festivities and remembering what Vicki said about seeing him before the Circus, Bruce decides to play a little sly game.  
  
Dialing Vicki’s number, he finally figures out what he will say, and he just hopes she answers the phone; he doesn’t have a message planned for voicemail.  
  
On the third ring, she answers the phone with her soft voice. “Bruce Wayne. You can’t be that desperate to call me just a day after I gave you my number.”  
  
“Hello to you too Vicki. Come on, it’s me. I have no need to be desperate. But I was thinking about what you said about seeing me before the circus.”  
  
“Bruce, news conferences don’t count.”  
  
With a small laugh into the receiver, Bruce continues “I know they don’t. Listen, I just got off of the phone with Jim Gordon. He personally invited me and a date to his promotion party on the 31st. I was wondering if you’d like to be the date. You’d be seeing me before the circus and well, you probably would have to be there for reporting purposes anyway.”  
  
After a brief moment of silence, Vicki responds with a laugh. “So you’re idea of seeing me before the circus is literally the day before. That’s funny. Well it’s just next week and I suppose I will see you at conferences. You’re on. But you’re driving. Get some paper, here’s my address.”

XXVII

The following week just before Gordon’s party, Thomas Elliot is sitting on his plain brown sofa writing a speech on his coffee table. Beside him on the sofa is a newspaper from the Gotham Gazette with a headline on the front page reading “Private Party for Sgt. James Gordon’s Promotion”.  
Laughing as he puts the speech into the breast pocket of his trench coat, Thomas pulls out rolls of bandages from a bag on the chair beside him. Thinking that tonight will be a big night for him, he begins wrapping the bandages around his head and neck, preparing for the events ahead of him. 

 

XXVIII

Bruce Wayne and Vicki Vale arrive at Gordon’s party fashionably late, as per Bruce Wayne. Not wanting to be in the headlines for being at the party, especially with a reporter for the Gazette, he rushes them inside to quickly get away from the flashes of the camera and the questions being shouted at the pair.  
  
“I’m glad you haven’t tried to take a picture of me like that Vicki. Those reporters are wild, especially with all the flashes.”  
  
“Yeah well, there’s always a time and a place, right Bruce?”  
  
Sgt. Gordon appeared right in front of Bruce and Vicki, almost as if he was awaiting their arrival.  
  
“Congratulations Sgt. Gordon. This is a very nice place.” The three of them had just walked the length of the entrance to the Ritz Gotham (Gotham’s most famous hotel) and into the adjacent ballroom where the party was being held. On the tables are white cloths with a vase of a variety of flowers on each with a formal dinner setting for six people at each table.  
  
“Bruce you can call me Jim. I really don’t mind.” Gordon responded, leading them to his personal table where his wife is already seated. Bruce pulls out a chair for Vicki before pulling out his own; and who said chivalry was dead?  
  
“Bruce, Vicki, this is my wife Barbara. Barbara this is Bruce Wayne and Vicki Vale.”  
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Jim didn’t tell me we’d have two famous people sitting with us tonight! I’m honored!” Barbara greeted.  
  
“Oh please Mrs. Gordon. I’m not famous. I’m just a journalist.” Responded Vicki.  
  
“Yes but one of the best in the business! Everyone reads Vicki Vale’s articles in the Gazette and watch you when you fill in on television!” she responded.  
  
As the two blond women at the table quickly struck up a conversation, Gordon turned to Bruce who was caught admiring Vicki in her pretty formal red strapless dress.  
  
“Like I said on the phone, I didn’t know you were back or I would have come by and personally invited you Bruce.”  
  
The start of a conversation was barely enough to draw Bruce out of his thoughts of Vicki.  
  
“It’s really no problem Jim. Not a problem at all.”  
  
“So is this Vicki’s way of reporting on the inside? You know reporters are to be kept out in the lobby. None are allowed in.”  
  
Bruce was not aware of this news but shrugs it off with little effort.  
  
“Jim, if you can trust me, you can trust her. I promise. This is the first of our back to back dates. I originally asked her to the Haly Circus tomorrow night and when this came up, I thought a party scenario would be an easier first date. More people to talk to if things go wrong.”  
  
As Bruce and Jim carry on their conversation, a rather large African-American man takes the stage and clears his throat at the podium, calling for attention. The man seems to have faced the hardships of long hard nights for many years and in just a moment, Bruce realizes that he is the current police commissioner. Commissioner Loeb.  
  
“I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. It really turned into a wonderful event and I’d like to thank the Ritz Gotham for sponsoring us and hosting this little fiesta.”  
  
He paused for a round of applause from the guests acknowledging the hotel before continuing.  
  
Now I don’t like to skip around and fill speeches with fluff. We’re here tonight to give honor and thanks to a man who has been a Sergeant on the force for many years and is well deserving of the position I am in. So without further ado, I give you the new, Commissioner James Gordon!”  
  
As the room builds with another round of applause, a sudden sound that G.C.P.D. officers know all too well rings out in the small ballroom. A gunshot.  
  
Unseen and out of nowhere, a man in a trench coat rushed the stage and pulled a gun on Loeb, killing him and watching him fall from the podium. Simply stepping over the body and into the light, the man reveals himself to the crowd. Covered in layers of bandages from head to toe under the trench coat with heavy surgical gloves on his hands, he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper.  
  
Clearing his throat and unfolding the piece of paper, he leans into the microphone.  
  
“Good evening Gotham’s higher powers. What a lovely party I walked into. Hush up now, I have something to say.” 

XXIX  
  
Thomas Elliot stands at the microphone looking into the crowd of about 150 faces in disbelief. Smiling under his bandaged face, he looks down at his speech and begins.  
  
“I am not sure many of you know this but this man, Gillian Loeb, was corrupt to the highest degree. Look at his proposals and assignments. It literally screams nothing but get out of the mobs way! But I suppose it isn’t all that surprising considering he took a career in Law Enforcement. Most of you in here are cops. You can’t sit around and tell me that you have done something that would jeopardize your job or something that you should have done but didn’t. Well listen up people! Laziness is corruption too. Donuts and coffee won’t keep the streets of Gotham safe. And neither will the mob you all try to cover up.  
  
“Looking around at all of you and seeing this lovely party reminds me of my childhood. I never had a brotherhood like you all do, crooked as it may be. Never the team family moment, ya know? Never had a birthday party or graduation party. Nothing. Boy I wish that could have been different.  
  
“But alas, I must bring down the snake known as corruption. And how do you kill a snake? By taking off the head. So now I speak to you directly Bruce Wayne. Until you are dead and Wayne Enterprises is no more, you will suffer. Police officers will die. Your precious board members will die. Like many of us you have caused to do. People will die until you are gone. Your choice.” 

XXX

As soon as the masked man had ended his speech with a threat to Bruce Wayne, the lights went down, typical of a horror movie. They were only down for mere seconds yet when they came on, the man was gone.  
  
Immediately the room is in a frenzy. The closest officers rush up to Loeb while everyone else heads for the exits in a mad rush. Gordon, damning the hotel for the basis of the party officers were not to have guns or this wouldn’t have happened, runs to his wife and asks her to head home to their two kids.  
  
Vicki runs around the table to Bruce, urging him to leave but he insists he needs to help. When Gordon comes to the table to confront his wife, he turns to Bruce.  
  
“You should get out of here. Take Vicki and make sure she’s safe. We can handle everything here.”  
  
“Jim, I want to help.”  
  
“Bruce your life was threatened by a man who murdered the Commissioner. Go home”  
  
Unwillingly, Bruce obliges to Jim and takes Vicki by the hand. Pushing through the throng of the mass exodus of the hotel, they are able to get outside and across the street to Bruce’s dark gray Nissan GT-R.  
  
“Well this sucks. I’m sorry Vicki.”  
  
“Why the hell are you apologizing Bruce? You didn’t do anything.”  
  
“I should have helped somehow.”  
  
“A man was murdered by a terrorist who vanished in ten seconds! How the hell would you have helped!?”  
Bruce looks back across the street to the panic that is the hotel. More police squad cars are rushing in as countless people are standing around outside, not having the slightest clue on what to do.  
  
“Vicki, you’re welcome to stay at my place tonight. This obviously ended well before it was supposed to. Drinks and dinner at my place? Maybe an old Knights game? I’d suggest a movie but I haven’t seen a good movie in two years.”  
  
“Bruce, I’d love to come back with you. But swing me back by my apartment would you? I need to grab some stuff. I suppose I could get the bottle of wine I’d been saving for a special occasion. Tonight seems like it would be put to good use.”  
  
***  
  
In her apartment, Vicki slides off the tight red dress and into a pair of yoga pants and an old Nirvana t-shirt. Not being the type of girl who would care about looking her best while sleeping, she just grabs a pair of boy shorts and a baggy Gotham University t-shirt to sleep in and tosses it in a bag.  
  
In the bathroom, she packs up a toothbrush and some toothpaste and looks around for anything else. Through the open door, she sees her laptop sitting there open and on in the kitchen. As she slips on a pair of flip flops and grabs the bottle of wine, she also packs her laptop in the bag. She had something big to report on tonight….. 

XXXI

In the entertainment room of Wayne Manor, Bruce has fallen asleep sitting up on the end of the old beige sofa watching an old Gotham Knights game from the previous year. On the coffee table are the remnants of some Chinese takeout they had for dinner, not wanting to bother Alfred with the trouble of making a meal.  
Next to the Chinese is a bottle of Whiskey and Vicki’s bottle of wine, the latter of which being completely empty. Vicki wasn’t a whiskey girl and it appeared Bruce was a whatever bottle is open type of guy.  
  
Being sure Bruce is asleep; Vicki pulls out her laptop and sits in the reclining chair opposite the sofa. Staring at a blank Microsoft Word document, she is trying to put the events of the party into words for a cutting edge report. However, looking across from her and seeing the sleeping form of Bruce Wayne, someone who trusted her enough to take a reporter to a private party, and cared enough about her to not try and disrespect her at his house on the first date, she just couldn’t do it. Bruce is too nice of a guy to betray like that and Vicki was really beginning liking him.  
  
Closing her laptop and putting it back in the bag; she pulls out the pajamas she brought and changes clothes right there. Perhaps it was the wine or just her body she didn’t know, but she secretly wished Bruce would wake up and take her up to the master bedroom. Sadly she had no luck seeing as Bruce didn’t so much as move a finger with a half-naked girl five feet away. He really must have been asleep.  
  
Not sure where a bathroom is, she takes her toothbrush and toothpaste as well as the leftovers and alcohol bottles to the kitchen. Putting the leftovers in the refrigerator and the bottles on the counter, she ends up brushing her teeth in the kitchen sink. This night had not gone as she had planned in the slightest bit.  
  
When she walked back across the foyer into the entertainment room, the sofa was positioned much differently. The end that Bruce had been asleep on was pulled out into almost a twin bed style; very fancy sofa. Bruce laid on it, leaving plenty of room for Vicki. As she curled up next to him, he picked some crappy movie from Netflix and the two of them were asleep in five minutes time.  
  
“So Bruce was awake the entire time…” Was Vicki’s final thought before she drifted into unconsciousness. 

XXXII

Commissioner James Gordon is sitting in his office just ten hours after he was promoted, trying to make some case out of what happened at the party. The bullet leads back to no gun on record anywhere. The man left no trace of him being there at all. With not allowing any reporters in, no pictures of the man were taken and the hotel had no surveillance that would help. It was literally like he wasn’t there at all.  
  
To make Gordon’s first few hours as commissioner even more difficult, a young blond police officer by the name of Donald Peak sticks his head into Gordon’s office.  
  
With a hesitant voice, the young man begins “Sarg … I mean Commissioner Gordon. I hate to interrupt you but this is important… Officers just recovered another body from the Throat Slasher… The total is up to nine and we still have no leads… “  
  
Gordon throws down the pen he had been tapping on the desk. Looking out of the window still in his old office, he wonders how his first day as Gotham’s Police Commissioner could get any worse. 

XXXIII

The day after the fiasco at Jim Gordon’s promotion party, Thomas Elliot is sitting in the pearl white of Gotham General’s break room, drinking the worst coffee they ever had.  
  
On the white table in front of him is a newspaper from Gotham Gazette. The front page headline reads “Former Police Commissioner Gillian Loeb Murdered: Threat made on life of Bruce Wayne and others”.  
  
Seeing as no one was around in the break room, Thomas allows himself a sly smile, seeing his work in public. There are no leads on the so called ‘terrorist’ and nothing can be traced from the bullet in Loeb’s head. Thomas was in the clear.  
  
Just as he was feeling elated, a headline beneath the previous brought nerves and jolts of anticipation.  
  
“Serial Murderer in Gotham Strikes Again: Throat slashed of 9th Victim in a month- No leads.”  
  
With the immediate thought of this murderer doing what he plans to, Thomas Elliot allows fear and anxiety to overtake his life. He rushes from the break room through the white halls of the hospital and straight to his car.  
  
“This serial murderer won’t get the one up on me!” Elliot thinks as he backs his Subaru out of the hospital garage parking space, he makes sure no one is around him who could be a witness. Once the coast is clear, he takes his Subaru Outback straight to Bruce Wayne’s Mansion.

 

XXXIV

In the kitchen of Wayne Manor the morning after the party, Alfred is preparing Vicki and Bruce omelets with fresh bell peppers and ham with a side of French toast and freshly squeezed orange juice. After he places a plate in front of each of them, Alfred leaves the kitchen through the back entrance, which leads to the garage.  
  
“Wow this food is incredible. I might have to stay over more often.” Vicki tells Bruce between bites. She was still in her boy shorts and GU t-shirt. Even in pajamas, Bruce had to admire her beauty. The shorts really showed off what he thought were one of Vicki’s best features: her legs. The shirt was baggy but that showed her personality and in Bruce’s eyes that’s what matters, not her features.  
  
Sitting without a shirt and in a pair of track pants, Bruce had to think Vicki liked what she saw too. But being the gentleman he is, he does what he knows is right, and doesn’t rush anything.  
  
“You’re welcome any time. Vicki, I’m sorry I fell asleep last night. That wine was very tasty and it honestly kicked my butt. That was some pretty strong stuff.”  
  
“Well your whiskey didn’t slow the wine down at all, that’s for certain. Besides, I was asleep almost soon after you pulled the bed out.”  
  
The two remained silent as they ate because the food was so good, they didn’t want to stop eating to talk. Once the plates were clear, Vicki looks across the breakfast nook at the time on the stove. 10:30am.  
  
“Bruce, I have to get going. I have to go into work at 12 for a few hours to turn in some stories. Then back to my place so I can shower and get ready for the circus! I’m so excited!”  
  
“No problem. I’ll drive you. Let me grab a shirt and I…”  
  
“Oh Bruce, its fine. Alfred said he will take me. He offered a ride when I woke up this when I woke up this morning whenever I wanted to leave. I’ll be right back.”  
  
As Vicki scampered across the foyer to the entertainment room where her bag was, Bruce took both of their plates and set them in the sink. Halfway on his walk to the entertainment room, Vicki emerges wearing her yoga pants and Nirvana t-shirt from the evening before and carrying her bag.  
  
“Since you won’t let me drive, at least let me walk you out!”  
  
“I’m letting Alfred take me home because he said you have some work to do for Wayne Enterprises. And I can respect that. We both have work to do, plus we’ll see each other later.”

Bruce did have some research to do about the party last night, and he figures that must be what Alfred was talking about. As the two of them meet in the middle of the foyer, Bruce takes Vicki’s bag and allows her to lead them out of the house (admiring once again her features now in yoga pants) to the waiting Alfred in a Black Volkswagen Touareg. 

XXXV

In the bright sun of late morning in Gotham City, Thomas Elliot is barreling down the freeway to the outskirts of Gotham City towards Wayne Manor. Forcing his Subaru down the exit ramp at nearly 60mph, he is trying his hardest to get to Bruce Wayne as fast as possible.  
  
As he speeds up the driveway of the mansion, he comes to a sudden halt, seeing a sight he did not expect to see. The reporter that Bruce was privately talking to at the conference a few weeks back and at the party the previous night is walking down the front steps of the mansion, closely followed by a shirtless Bruce Wayne. In his mind, Tommy didn’t plan on having any other victims but Bruce and maybe the old butler. But now with a news reporter there, he can’t pull off his plan. As he pulls up halfway to the house, through the open windows of his car (since the AC decided to not work on a hot day) he hears the reporter telling Bruce that she will see him later at the circus before kissing him and getting in the car.  
  
Just as Tommy decides on a plan, he looks up and see’s Bruce Wayne looking right into his car and slowly beginning to walk towards him. Panicing, he quickly gets out and yells “Just read the paper, making sure you’re okay.”  
  
With that, he hops immediately back into his car and speeds of down the driveway. Behind him is the car carrying Vicki being driven by Alfred.  
  
“Shall I follow him sir?” Alfred asks as he pulls to a stop beside Bruce, watching Elliot speed further away from the mansion.  
  
“No Alfred, just take Vicki wherever she needs to go. I’ll try to figure out what the hell is wrong with him.”  
  
And with that, Alfred takes Vicki down the same road that Thomas Elliot just sped down and to her apartment. Bruce meanwhile heads back into Wayne Manor on the bright sunny day and goes to the study, turning the hands on the grandfather clock to 9:30. Thinking about the events of last night at the party and why Thomas Elliot has been so weird, he descends the stairs leading to blackness. Blackness and a computer that will hopefully hold all the answers. 

XXXVI

After leaving Wayne Manor, Thomas Elliot sped through downtown Gotham and straight to the Monarch Theater; the same theater that Bruce Wayne will be at tonight attending the circus.  
  
Sitting behind it and seeing all of the tents of the performers he begins wrapping himself in bandages, thinking to himself that he looks like a circus freak as well so he should fit right in.  
  
Getting out of the car and making sure every part of him is covered, he begins walking through the tents and seeing the circus performers in their normal attire (or as normal as a circus performer can be). Spying an open door leading to a back entrance, Elliot quietly sneaks through and into the theater to await the arrival of not only Bruce Wayne but the reporter he will be here with. Smiling behind his bandages, Elliot now knows how Bruce can suffer just as he did.  
  
XXXVII

Outside of Vicki Vale’s apartment, Bruce is sitting in his Nissan GT-R waiting for Vicki. When he sees the front door open, he scrambles out of the car to open the other door for the piece of beauty that he is taking to the circus.  
  
Vicki is dressed in a tight blue tank top (very nice and fitting for her), a pair of cut of jean shorts that hit her about mid-thigh (completing her legs perfectly) and a pair of wedges matching the shirt. A perfect outfit for summer and an even more perfect outfit for her.  
  
“Is this alright to wear to the circus Bruce? I had no idea how to dress for it.”  
  
“I…UhmWow. Yes, it’s perfect!” Bruce manages to get out, still shell-shocked at her presence. He helps her into the passenger seat of his Japanese supercar and can’t help but to notice how wonderful her legs look, especially since the shorts got even shorter when she sat down…  
  
Once Bruce takes his place in the car, he hesitates to start it and looks over at Vicki.  
  
“Can I tell you something before we go?” Without waiting for an answer, he carries on anyway.  
  
“The Monarch Theater is where the circus is. Obviously that’s where my parents were killed. I haven’t been there since that happened. I’ve been having indifferent feelings about it all day.”  
  
“Bruce I’m not sure what you want me to say. You’re a big boy and if you don’t want to go, all you have to do is say so. I’m sure we could find something else to do. I’m not going to hold you to some specific standard for skipping out on a circus.  
  
“I do however think it’s important you go. It will be a good opportunity to face what happened. Going back 14 years later can really change your mind about it. Like a facing your fears sort of thing.”  
  
Impressed with Vicki’s answer, Bruce sits for a moment in silence. Thinking she may be right about it being similar to facing his fear, he agrees that they should go.  
  
“That was some speech Vicki.” Bruce tells her as he starts the powerful V8 engine of a car known as Godzilla in Japan and pulls away from the apartment.  
  
“I’ve obviously never had somebody to put things into perspective like that. Especially people I feel confident enough in to confide such information.”  
  
“Bruce, I’m a reporter. I get all kinds of information daily and have to sort in somehow. In a way, that’s sort of what I do.” She added a wink, noticing him looking at her while driving.  
  
“Well I’m glad you still seem like you want to go. I already bought tickets and probably couldn’t sell them for much of anything anyway!” he said jokingly as they drove towards the theater.

XXXVIII

Halfway through the circus, Bruce finds Vicki sitting alone near the middle of the crowd as he went to get some popcorn and a soda. The two of them had really been enjoying the entertainment and Bruce felt quite comfortable being back in the theater. Holding Vicki’s hand in his left, he continuously stuffs popcorn into his mouth watching the show. During an intermission where a crew is setting up for the main event which is a family of acrobats, Vicki leans into Bruce, asking if he is alright.  
  
“I am doing just fine. This popcorn is really good and the entertainment has been up to par. I am glad we came.”  
  
The crowd begins to applaud just a moment later, signaling the start of another act. A family of three acrobats walk out from back stage smiling and waving to the crowd. They are dressed in bright red, yellow and green suits ready to fly through the air. The largest of the three and also the only male, walks to the front of the stage and picks up a microphone, addressing the crowd.  
  
“Good evening ladies and gentleman. I hope you are enjoying the entertainment so far! We are just now hitting the middle of the performance! If you have seen the show before you know there are usually four of us but my youngest son is sick tonight. Fear not! We will make it work and we certainly hope you enjoy it! We are the Flying Grayson’s… minus one tonight!”  
  
A roar from the crowd erupts as the oldest Grayson walks back to his wife and daughter and they begin ascending higher and higher towards the roof. At first they just start swinging from platform to platform, warming up. But soon after, the begin doing backflips and twists and turns and any other kind of imaginative thing that can be done so high in the air.  
  
Bruce leans over to Vicki, noting that there is no net below them if something goes wrong. Thinking to himself that the lack of net makes the act so much better, Bruce is suddenly in as much shock as everyone around him.  
  
The Grayson’s were gearing up for a trick with all three of them on one rope trying to reach the other platform when everything suddenly went wrong. The line holding the Grayson’s snapped dropping the family countless feet to the stage below. First the youngest daughter, then the mother on top, and finally the father landing on top of both. The crowd sat in silence and horror as the Flying Grayson’s fell to their death in the matter of a few small seconds. 

XXXIX

The sold out crowd of nearly 300 people sit stunned and silent trying to comprehend what just happened in front of them in the blink of an eye. The acrobats were high up on a rope in one second and dead on the stage the next. Suddenly, a man walks from backstage dressed in a trench coat and bandages. He walks right up to the microphone and begins to speak. Instantly Vicki and Bruce recognize him as the man from Gordon’s party the night before.  
  
“It’s a pity… what happened to this family. They were quite talented.”  
  
As the man walks around the stage, the lights illuminate him for the crowd to see. Bandages cover his face and body on every inch. On his hand are medical grade surgical gloves. The crowd sits silently, wondering who this man is and why is he dressed that way.  
  
“You know… I was rather enjoying this circus. They always intrigued me as a child but I never got to see one. The way they use these animals and the way these acrobats flew through the air! It’s incredible! But sadly it ended in such a mess.  
  
“But now the show becomes about you people. Not all of you, just a few. I’d like to acknowledge the attendance of one popular reporter Vicki Vale and her date, the awesomely famous Bruce Wayne! Stand up so everyone can get a good look at you!”  
  
Bruce and Vicki remain seated, watching the man in horror with the other 300 guests in attendance.  
  
“No. Well alright then. I feel it only fair I take the responsibility for the deaths of these talented acrobats. They were so good and daring but all it took was a little fray on the rope from my scalpel and well look. Here they are! But as most of us know, this isn’t the first death to occur in or around Monarch Theater? Right Bruce? Weren’t your parents shot right back here? What’s it feel like to be back? Must be difficult mentally I’m sure.”  
  
In the silence of the crowd and everything around, police sirens are heard in the distance, closing quick on the theater. Seeing little time left to talk to the crowd, Thomas Elliot gets right to the chase.  
  
“My time here is coming to an end. I’m sorry but I really must go. And I will say one last thing; People of Gotham will continue suffer and die until Bruce Wayne lay dead by my hand and my hand alone.” 

XL

Outside of the Monarch Theater, mass panic spreads through the circus goers as the rush for their vehicles. Simultaneously, G.C.P.D. officers including now Commissioner Jim Gordon arrive on the scene, having no idea what is going on.  
  
In the chaos outside of the theater, Bruce Wayne rushes his date to his Nissan GT-R, telling her to get home as fast as possible and in that car, it should take five minutes max.  
  
“Bruce I think you need to go with me. Do you not realize your life has been threatened twice in the past twenty-four hours? By the same person nonetheless! I think you’re the one who needs to get home.”  
  
Hearing what Vicki is saying, Bruce decides to go against it. “That’s why I am staying Vicki. Gordon is here and I will most likely need to talk to him. I’m just making sure you are safe. I’ll be fine.”  
  
Looking up at Bruce from the driver’s seat of the car, Vicki locks eyes with him. Knowing deep down Bruce really did need to talk to the police, she agrees and stretches her body up, asking for a kiss which Bruce happily gives. She puts the car straight to third gear and guns the GT-R towards the Gotham freeway at 50mph. The good news is most of the cops are at the theater so no speeding tickets will be given this night.  
  
As Vicki barrels down the road, Bruce waits until the taillights are gone before pulling out his iPhone. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one he is looking for, a contact by the name of Fox, Lucius.  
  
He clicks the number, hoping and praying Lucius is able to answer the phone. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Finally, in the middle of the fourth rings, Lucius’ soft and subtle voice greets the other end of the line.  
  
“Lucius, its Bruce. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”  
  
“Mr. Wayne, I’m a 45 year old bachelor on a Saturday night. I’m not doing a damn thing.”  
  
“Well that’s good then. Remember the suit I gave you. I’m going to need that as soon as possible. Someone’s threatened my life and killed at least four people in the past 24 hours.”  
  
“Well it looks like I now have something to do. I’ll have it done by the end of the week.” 

XLI

Commissioner James Gordon stands behind the theater being brought up to speed by Officer Edge. There are three dead bodies on the stage because a man wrapped in bandages cut the rope and threatened Bruce Wayne’s life while attempting to make friends with the audience… What the hell is going on in this city?  
  
He turns around and begins walking back to his squad car to call for more units when a younger, larger body steps in front of him. The muscular frame belongs to a well-kept man with short black hair; Bruce Wayne.  
  
“Mr. Wayne. I’m glad you’re here. Saves me the trouble of calling you into the station. Who the hell wants you dead?”  
  
“Jim, I wish I knew the answer to that question. I’m as lost as you but I’m not worried about me. I want to talk to their kid.”  
  
Gordon is speechless, trying to figure out what Bruce is talking about. Then it hits him like a ball hits a bat. He wants to talk to the acrobats’ son who is somewhere behind the theater and doesn’t yet know he will never see his family again. 

XLII

Bruce Wayne is sitting in Commissioner Gordon’s office with the police Commissioner and a 16 year old boy with shaggy jet black hair. Night had fully taken over Gotham as Bruce rode back to the G.C.P.D. station with the young boy. When told of his family’s tragedy, he suddenly became mute and could not look at anything but the floor, locked in his own thoughts. In a chair next to Bruce and across from Gordon, he begins to rock back and forth, still staring a hole into the floor. He is dressed in the same outfit that his family was when they fell to their death.  
  
“Bruce, do you think you can give us a minute? I’d like to ask him a couple questions.”  
  
“I’m not leaving Gordon. I want to talk to him by myself. Without law enforcement crawling around watching him like an exhibit.”  
  
Taken aback by the brash comment from Bruce, Gordon gets out of his desk chair, walks out of the room and shuts the door (probably a bit harder than he should have) and leaves the two of them alone.  
  
“I lost my parents when I was only eight. I know what you’re feeling. I just experienced it at a much earlier age. As a matter of fact, they were killed in about the same place where your tent was set up behind the theater.”  
  
The boy stopped rocking back and forth but remained intent on staring into the ground, as if trying to see the basement through layers of floors.  
  
“I know what it’s like to lose everyone you love. I did that night 14 years ago, when you were just a baby. It sucks, I know.”  
  
The kid looked at Bruce, but apparently out of resentment. What Bruce was saying obviously wasn’t getting him anywhere so he decides to change topic. He stands up and moves right in front of the boy so he is now staring at his feet. Placing a hand on each shoulder, he raised the kids gaze to look at him in the face.  
  
“My name is Bruce Wayne and I am trying to help you. Maybe with a little cooperation, I can. At the very least, I’d like to know your name.”  
  
The boy is stunned at the sudden change in attitude by the most famous person in Gotham. In his mind, he had nothing else to lose so he submits to the man’s demand.  
  
“Richard… My name is Richard John Grayson.”  
  
XLIII

Able to get more time with the young Grayson, Bruce buys them both a cup of coffee (which tastes disgusting; must be a Gotham Coffee thing) and takes him for a walk around the outside of the G.C.P.D. building. As taxis and cars blow by on the street, no one is on the sidewalk this very hot and humid summer’s eve. No one but Bruce and Richard.  
  
As the two of them find a bench around the side of the G.C.P.D. building, Bruce asks the boy if there is anything he would like to tell him.  
  
“You can call me Dick if you want. Richard is too formal for my taste. Call me Dick, everyone does…. Well. Did.”  
  
“Fair enough. Dick, is there anything you want to talk about? I am here as a listener now. You can talk as much or as little as you want.”  
  
He pauses for a moment while taking a drink of coffee. Sitting next to the most famous person in Gotham who was orphaned at age eight. Yet in Dick’s mind, he doesn’t think he should be there at all. He thinks he should be in a body bag next to the other three members of his family. Feeling a strange feeling he can’t explain, he decides to open up to Bruce.  
  
“I shouldn’t be here. I should be with them down in the morgue. I wanted to perform but my father said no. I didn’t go on because I had a nasty fall in practice and banged my head. My father said he wanted me to stay back tonight and I can go back onstage in Metropolis later this week. It’s not fair. I should have died with them.”  
  
Silent and waiting for him to finish, Bruce knows exactly how to respond.  
  
“Dick, I know exactly how you feel. I never told anybody this but I had to watch my parents get murdered. My father took a bullet to protect my mother. I watched my mother grasp at any sign of life from his corpse, screaming until the man shot her too. Yet for some reason, I survived. I should have died with them that night. But here I am.”  
  
Not sure how to respond to the story that Bruce just told him, Dick drains the remnants of the terrible coffee and walks his cup across the sidewalk to the trash can. When he begins to walk back, he looks down and notices he is still wearing the acrobat outfit. A red jumpsuit with yellow and green trim. A surprisingly a happy moment came to mind that he blurted out.  
  
“My mother used to say I looked like a beautiful red breasted robin when I put this suit on.” He laughs silently, cherishing that moment.  
  
“I don’t know what kind of Robin had green and yellow but if that’s what she thought, then I love it even more.” 

XLIV

“Bruce that kind of paperwork will take months! He will have to go into foster care whether you file it or not!” Gordon explains to Bruce who had stormed into his office, saying he wants to adopt Richard Grayson, then got angry when told no.  
  
“Why the hell does it take so long? Kids shouldn’t have to go to foster care if they have someone willing to take them in right now! No kid should have to live through something like that!”  
  
“Bruce it’s the law! It’s not something Harvey Dent did last year; it’s the law from the national government! You can’t change that, no matter how much money you have!”  
  
That last comment from Gordon really got under Bruce’s skin. He threw up his arms and went to grab a chair. He needed to throw something; to relieve tension but cooler heads will prevail.  
  
“Jim. Please, do everything you can to hurry this up. He won’t last in a foster home. He’s one of those types of kids and I would have been the same way. I want to help.”  
  
“I understand Bruce. And I will try. But as it stands right now, you cannot adopt Dick Grayson and he must be put into foster care until the paperwork is settled.” 

XLV

Outside of Jim Gordon’s office, Bruce takes Dick and pulls him aside.  
  
“So I talked to Jim Gordon about adopting you so you don’t have to deal with foster care.”  
  
“I know, I heard. The glass in the door isn’t exactly soundproof.” Dick said and Bruce allows a slight smile before continuing on.  
  
“He said he will do his best to speed the paperwork process up through the legality process but it will still take time… “  
  
“Mr. Wayne, thank you. When Gordon told me what happened, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run. And I almost did. But running won’t solve everything and I had nothing else to lose. So I came here with you two.”  
  
Richard Grayson extends his hand as a formal thank you to Bruce before walking into the Commissioner’s office and shutting the door. Bruce pulls out his phone and pressed the number 1 on the keypad. Alfred on speed dial.  
  
“Alfred.” Bruce said when he heard a faint British hello on the other end.  
  
“I need you to pick me up from the G.C.P.D. building. I’m sorry to disrupt you if you’re sleeping. Vicki has my car and it’s a long story.”  
  
“Master Bruce may I ask why you are at the police station at 11pm at night. Should I bring bail money as well?”  
  
“A ride will be just fine Alfred.”  
  
Bruce hangs up the phone and goes to get a cup of coffee before heading to the main floor. When he reaches the coffee pot, he thinks better of it and just decides to have Alfred stop by a gas station on the way home. 

XLVI

A few days after the circus, Bruce is sitting in front of his massive computer in the dark cave. He is trying to figure out who has threatened his life twice in the two days and why the hell they are doing it.  
  
Searching databases with key terms such as ‘Man wrapped in Bandages” and “Gillian Loeb murder”, the searches come up blank. There are no links to the bandaged man and anything else besides the obvious facts Bruce knows.  
  
While looking through news articles, Bruce finds more notes about Gotham General workers gone missing with no leads. Could the man be linked to those disappearances? Is this man the serial killer who’s killed up to nine people without a single trace?  
  
Behind Bruce near the entrance to the cave via the clock, voices are heard. One is the English accented voice of Alfred and the other is a more subtle, softer voice belonging to an older gentleman. Lucius Fox.  
  
When Bruce turns from his chair, the two men are descending the last few steps, carrying brief cases in each hand. Suddenly forgetting everything on his computer, Bruce runs to greet the two men carrying the suit he’s been waiting for. 

XLVII

“Lucius I can’t thank you enough for doing this and I apologize for rushing you. But with the events of the past few days, I think it’s high time I use it.”  
  
The three men load the briefcases onto the table and arrange them by label. “Head”, “Torso”, “Arms”, “Mid and Legs”. Bruce opens the midsection and legs case first and is very impressed with what he sees. A satin black paint on an armored plated suit and boots.  
  
“The boots are protected from toe to calf in a carbon fiber plating while the middle is made of a strong mesh material allowing you to turn swiftly.”  
  
Bruce nods his understanding, walking around the table to the case that says “Arms”. Inside the case are two gauntlets that stretch from the tip of the finger to the shoulder, with the same mesh material from just behind the elbow extending upwards.  
  
The next case is labeled “Head” as Bruce moves to the front of the table to open the briefcase. Inside is a black cowl, matching the rest of the suit. There is a wide opening for the nose and mouth which allows for easy breathing. The eyes are cut out perfectly to match Bruce’s face and the ears are pointed straight up, resembling those of a bat.  
  
“Inside the cowl, everything is linked back to this computer right here. If you are tracking someone or something, this computer will send you the image. If you need to know where something is or to look for clues, this cowl will link up with energy from the computer, allowing you to scan whatever is around you and transmit it right back here. If you have a question about something or need something looked up while you’re out, I suggest calling Alfred.”  
  
Bruce laughed, knowing Alfred would appreciate a call in the middle of the night, asking him to look up directions to a specific location. Finally, in the middle of the table is the last case labeled “Torso”. Bruce reaches for it and slides it to him, anxious to see what’s inside. He flips the locks and folds back the top, revealing something that couldn’t even have thought of.  
  
Inside the briefcase is an armored plate that is painted to match the rest of the suit. It has slots for everything to connect together; the mesh of the gauntlets fits into the shoulder areas, the midsection mesh slides underneath the armor plates of the torso and the cowl just slides right down to meet the armor at his neck. In the middle of an armored plate, going from shoulder to shoulder is an embossed symbol. A grey bat that stands out against the black background. The suit is complete.  
  
As Bruce walks around to shake Lucius’ hand and thank him once again, the computer makes a sound alerting everyone there is a news notification. As they all pile up in front of the enormous monitor, two news reporters break in on the channel 8 local news.  
  
A 30-something year old man is sitting behind a desk with a fancy suit and tie while on the left of the screen is Bruce’s squeeze Vicki Vale.  
  
“We interrupt your current program to bring you this breaking news.” The man announced. A graphic below him on the screen reveals that his name is Jack Rider.  
  
“We have just received a video from an anonymous source possibly catching one of Gotham’s serial murderers in the act. Police are not yet on the scene as we have a crew on the way. We must warn you. Viewer discretion is advised.” 

XLVIII

Shaky and pixelated footage appears on the screen as the news broadcast puts it into full view. The footage was obviously taken from an older cell phone model seeing as it was very low quality.  
  
Once the hand is stabled, a group of three or four teenagers can be heard talking in the background. One of them is saying “Let’s follow that bald guy. I bet he’d be fun to mess with.”  
  
The camera pans left across the front of an old gothic church and focuses in on a hunched over bald and shirtless man, no more than 26 years old walking down the alley beside the church. He appears to be following something or someone next down an alley next to an old church. “Perfect!” one of the kids in the group expresses.  
As the kids get closer to the man, something so swift and unexpected happens that causes the one holding the camera to nearly drop it. The bald man pulls out a knife from his back pocket and in one swift motion, reaches around in front of him, slicing through the air. But air doesn’t fall to the ground; the body in front of him did.  
From the vantage point of the camera, no one could see the person walking in front of the bald man until he was dead on the ground. When the body is seen, the group of kids scream and run from the alley as the video ends.  
  
“As we stated before, the police are still not on the scene. As this story develops, guest reporter Vicki Vale and I, Jack Rider will bring you all of the details first. Stay tuned Gotham.”  
  
“Lucius, you couldn’t have come at a better time.” Bruce said as he turns around to the table from the computer and picks up the case titled “Head” and removes the cowl.  
“It looks like the time has come.” 

XLIX

Bruce Wayne is watching the cell phone video footage on a loop, trying to figure out where the church is exactly located in Gotham City.  
  
“Do you have any idea where the church is Master Bruce?” Alfred asks, walking over to the computer as Lucius gets all of the components for the suit out of the briefcases and onto the table.  
“Well, look at this stained glass and gothic architecture when the camera pans around. That’s evident of a very old church.”  
  
“Yes but Bruce there are over 100 churches in Gotham City and most of them are going to be pretty old. I haven’t the slightest clue why there are so bloody many, but there are.”  
  
“You’d be correct Alfred.” Bruce responds. “But take a look here at the end. After he murders the man, the cameraman turns and runs, holding the phone upside down. See that in the background?”  
  
Bruce points to a large and very pixelated glowing W on top of a very tall building in the background of the video.  
  
“Gotham Cathedral.” Alfred states, knowing that’s the only church around Wayne Tower.  
  
“Exactly.” 

L  
  
Lucius hands Bruce the boots and gauntlets first, explaining how exactly to put the suit on.  
  
“You see. You step into the boots and midsection area first, which allows you to not have to bend over with everything else on. Next, it’s up to you. It might be easier to put on the torso then the gauntlets because the mesh connects to the underside of the shoulders.”  
  
So Bruce does as he is told and soon as the entire suit is on and secured, except for the cowl.  
  
“Alfred, where did you put that box of gadgets I’ve been working on? Never know what I’ll need so I’ll take them all.”  
  
“Gadgets? You made gadgets without telling me Bruce? I feel left out.”  
  
Smiling at Lucius’ comment, Bruce follows Alfred to the table where he has placed a sturdy box containing everything Bruce will need: A claw, a grapnel gun, a few metal pieces cut into the shapes of bats, and smoke bombs. Alfred took the liberty of putting the word bat in front of everything so it is a ‘bat-claw’ and ‘bat-a-rangs’ and so on.  
  
Before Bruce puts on the cowl, he turns to Alfred, asking him to monitor everything from the computer.  
  
“Of course sir. But what exactly am I going to do at the computer?”  
  
“I just need you to monitor the suit and answer any questions I have. He will be able to see everything I do right Lucius?”  
  
Fox nods his head in assurance.  
  
“And what are you planning to do Bruce?” Alfred calls as Bruce begins to walk to the aptly named ‘Batmobile’ (which was the ‘side project ‘for Wayne Enterprises).  
  
“I’m going to try to solve this crime and catch the man who’s behind this.” And with that, Bruce pulls the cowl down over his face and standing in the cave, he transforms himself into the symbol of fear he hopes to become to the criminals of Gotham City. 

LI

Bruce is pushing the Batmobile as fast as he possibly can while speeding down the main highway of Gotham to the church near the center of the city. Other cars on the freeway are swerving every which way, trying to avoid the speeding blur approaching them in their rear view mirror.  
  
Unavoidably, the Batmobile can’t fit through every space in front of it. Bruce ends up knocking off mirrors or scratching and swiping paint off of the cars that aren’t able to move out of the way fast enough. Almost every other car Bruce passes loses a wing mirror.  
  
As the Batmobile sideswipes another car exiting the highway, the driver pulls out his cellphone and phones in the police of Gotham.  
  
“I need to report an accident. My vehicle and many around me were just struck by a military type vehicle going at least 100mph. He fled down exit 712, heading downtown.” 

LII

A block away from the Gotham Cathedral where the video was shot, Bruce parks the Batmobile in an alley and out of sight. As he begins running to the church a few hundred feet away, he decides to test the communications device of the new suit.  
  
“Alfred, can you hear me?” Bruce says into the air as he pushes the cowl closer to his ear, hoping it helps.  
  
“I sure can Master Bruce. What do you need?”  
  
“I’m making sure the communications are working correctly, in case I need to contact you. Is Fox still there?”  
  
“No sir, he isn’t. I can call him if you’d like.”  
  
“Not now Alfred. Now that we know this line is working, let’s keep it clear until I need you. Got it?”  
  
“Of course Master Bruce.”  
  
Bruce ends the conversation with Alfred as he nears the church. Looking up at the old dilapidated gothic building, he remembers how his parents made him go to church as a child, even though he never liked it. In his mind, it’s fitting that the first crime he is trying to solve is at a place he hated going in his youth.  
  
He walks around the gothic structure looking for the scene of the crime, which he soon finds in the alley on the left side. Halfway down, there is a body crumbled on the ground sitting in a pool of crimson blood. Lucky for Bruce, the authorities have not arrived, allowing him to have the scene all to himself.  
  
With a push of a button on the forearm of the suit, the eyes of the cowl glow bright white. Inside it for Bruce’s vision, everything becomes blue and white, allowing him to scan for evidence or link things back to the Batcomputer back in the cave. This is his detective mode.  
  
The first thing Bruce does is examine and identify the victim: Cory Pexel age 31, cause of death is obvious; a slit throat. There is no other trace of anything on the body so Bruce begins to scan the scene. The killer didn’t step in the pool of blood so therefor left no footprints. There is no murder weapon lying around since the alley was completely empty.  
  
Yet on the wall, just barely catching Bruce’s detective eye, is a faint suggestion of something useful to catching this serial murder: the print of what is hopefully the killer’s hand.  
  
LIII

Bruce leans in closer to the print on the wall and focusing on it long enough, he is able to scan it and relay the image back to the computer for Alfred to scan.  
  
“Alfred, I just sent an image to the computer, you should be getting it any second. It’s the only piece of evidence I was able to come up with.”  
  
“It’s appearing now sir. Are you sure there is no other evidence than just a smudged handprint?”  
  
“I’m sure. Something would have stood out to me otherwise. It’s an empty alley with not even a dumpster. The only things here are the body and a pool of blood around him. My guess is the killer was startled by the group taking the video. Remember, they screamed when he killed this man? I would say the scream startled him and he put his hand on the wall as he jumped.”  
  
“That does make sense I suppose. I’ll run it right away Bruce. It will probably take a bit of time.”  
  
Bruce begins to sweep the scene one last time but is interrupted by the increasing volume of the wail of a siren. A police siren. 

LIV

Bruce never thought about how he would handle the police while trying to protect the people of Gotham. After all, that is their job. But this could be an opportunity to prove he is a good guy. If he’s able to get the killer and hand him over, perhaps he will prove that he’s on their side, on the side of justice.  
  
However, until he actually has the murderer in custody, he needs to avoid confrontation with the authorities. Right now, he needs to get back to the Batmobile.  
  
Using the grappling gun, he aims at the ledge in front of the main stained glass window of the church. Once the gun is fired, all Bruce had to do was hold onto the end and it zips right up to where the grapple hook landed. This is a very useful tool, especially if he needs to get out of a sticky situation.  
  
Looking down at the area in front of the church, G.C.P.D. squad cars are parking one by one. As the vehicles park, the owners of them get out and start doing their job; securing the area around the crime scene. The last vehicle to arrive has two passengers. Bruce recognizes them both immediately with the first being the officer than told Bruce they know who murdered his parents 14 years ago and the second is James Gordon.  
  
Instead of looking around the scene, Commissioner Jim Gordon looks up at the church he used to attend as a child but automatically something was different. Illuminated against the bright green and yellow stain of the glass depicting the Christian Jesus and his disciples, a tall dark shape with pointed ears is gazing down at the officers. Gordon stares at the figure a moment until it suddenly leaps from the building and glides around to the back using a cape and some technology giving him wings to glide.  
  
Staring dumbstruck at the window, trying to convince himself of what he saw, Officer Donald Peak takes a place beside him, also gazing at the stain glass window.  
  
“You’re not crazy, commissioner. I saw it too, whatever it was. It looked like a giant mutant bat with the pointy ears and wings and what not.”  
  
“Son” Gordon said, still looking up but acknowledging the officer.  
  
“I don’t know what the hell I just saw but I can assure you it wasn’t an overgrown bat.” 

LV

Back in the Batcave as Alfred has taken to calling it, Bruce is sitting at his computer and re-watching the cell phone footage while the hand print is still trying to find a match to its owner. After enhancing the quality of the video as much as he could and slowing it down to try and find anything he missed, Bruce is certain the only evidence of a murder in that alley besides the dead body is the hand print that was on the wall.  
  
A few moments after Bruce had stopped watching the video and began to think about other things (like where Vicki was with his car); the computer begins to emit a high beeping sound, signaling a match to the scanned handprint.  
  
Bruce immediately stops what he is doing and rushes straight to the computer, bumping and knocking over the chair in the process. On the screen is a picture of the print that Bruce sent and another is of a young blond boy about age 11, with the name of Victor Zsasz underneath.  
  
Bruce is automatically certain that this 11 year old boy he is looking at did not kill the man in the alley for a number of reasons. First the boy did not appear very large and would not have been able to do what was done and second, there is video of the killer, or at least his back. This boy was not the 20 something year old bald man from the terrible cellphone footage.  
  
Pulling up an internet search engine, Bruce types in the name Victor Zsasz hoping something pops up that will help him. But he gets nothing in return.  
  
All he can find is that Victor and his family moved here from Russia when he was 11 (which explains the picture- it was from his immigration papers-) and his parents died in a boating accident last month. The third and final piece of news was what confused Bruce the most. None of it held substantial any proof that Victor Zsasz was a serial murderer but the most interesting fact that can be pulled up about him is that he lost all of his money and his home in a gambling bet to Oswald Cobblepot and a name Bruce did not expect to see: Roman Sionis. 

LVI

The next morning, Thomas Elliot is watching a news report before going into work at Gotham General. As he sits drinking Gotham’s disgusting coffee in his apartment, Jack Rider and Vicki Vale appear on the screen.  
  
“Good morning Gotham, my name is Jack Rider and still filling in for Charlie Park is Gotham Gazette’s own Vicki Vale. Vicki thanks for A, being able to be on broadcast television and B, being willing to do it at all!”  
  
“It’s really not a problem Jack. All I’m doing is telling Gotham the stories I’d be writing about for the paper, which brings us to this morning’s top stories. The breaking news story we broke in with last night about the murder at the church marks the 10th serial victim we’ve had in the past month. The authorities still have no leads to who it is and are considering bringing in help from outside Gotham, according to a few sources.”  
  
“In related news,” begins Jack Rider.  
  
“Two more employees of Gotham General have gone missing and have not been heard from in over a week. They are not related to the serial killer victims, as all ten have been identified. Authorities also do not have leads in their disappearances.”  
  
Thomas Elliot begins to laugh as he turns off the television and walks into his kitchen to dump the coffee. On the counter next to the sink is a copy of the Gotham Gazette with a small article about a Wayne Enterprises board meeting press conference later that week.  
  
As he grabs his keys to his Subaru off of the kitchen counter to leave for work he smiles, knowing exactly what his next plan of attack will be.  
  
LVII

In the board room of Wayne Enterprises later that same week, Lucius Fox is giving a briefing to the board members about the agenda of the press conference.  
  
“It’s just a straightforward conference. We will announce the buyout of Ascension Entertainment in England, then proceed to speak on the stocks and public finances. It should only take 30 minutes. Is that agreed upon everyone?”  
  
The board members all state their agreement to Fox and head back to their office before it begins. As everyone is leaving, Lucius makes his way over to Bruce Wayne who is slumped over and asleep in his chair. When he taps him lightly on the shoulder, Lucius gets no response so he decides to try a different tactic. He slams his briefcase on the table which quickly awakens Bruce and sends him right to his feet.  
  
“Mr. Wayne, if you’re going to seriously go through with this façade at night, you need to keep it out of your personal life. You can’t sleep through meetings of your own company’s policies.”  
  
“I know Lucius. It’s just that I’ve been trying to track down this serial killer. I have a name but he just disappears after every kill. There is literally no way to track him.”  
  
Lucius looks around the empty board room which sits atop Wayne Tower and overlooks everything in Gotham. Down below, the morning rush hour traffic is in full swing, causing numerous drivers to be late for work. On the horizon to the south looking towards Bludhaven which is just a 30 minute drive from Gotham, storm clouds are overhead and moving due north.  
  
“I think we need to move this press conference inside Bruce.” Lucius said as he pointed to the window. He sees Bruce nod his agreement while he stretches and yawns.  
  
“I’m gonna get some coffee before it starts. Want anything?” Bruce asks as he stands and turns to leave.  
  
“No thanks Mr. Wayne. I’ll give the word to set up inside. Oh and by the way. I’m sure you’ll find him. You have to capability to be the world’s greatest detective. Use it Bruce.” 

LVIII

Hiding in an alley just a few blocks away from Wayne Enterprises is Victor Zsasz. A lot has been on his mind lately, ever since that group of kids followed him by the alley and saw him save that man by the church. Remembering the night perfectly, he knows for a fact he touched the wall of the church when the group screamed.  
  
After ten salvations, he had been so careful. No one knew he was doing it and he left no trace. But all someone would have to do is find his handprint on the wall and they would know it’s him.  
  
Taking little notice to the dark clouds overtaking the bright summer sky of Gotham, Victor pulls out his hunting knife and looks down at his forearm, counting two sets of five tally marks. Placing the cold metal of the blade to his warm flesh, Victor remembers the woman behind the gas station early that morning. She was practically begging to be saved. Number eleven now has a spot on Victor’s arm.  
  
With his mind bouncing back to the handprint on the church, Victor makes one decision he must do. He knows the end will come eventually, but until then, he must save as many as possible until it’s his time to be relieved of his duty.  
  
LIX

As employees of Wayne Enterprises set up a stage and podium in the lobby of Wayne Tower, a crowd begins to gather in the seats. The event is set up the exact same as when Bruce was introduced back into Gotham. News reporters are sitting in the first few rows with the general public seated behind them. Bruce, Lucius and other board members are standing behind the stage and off to the side, waiting to get started. Outside, a flash of lightning is followed by a crack of thunder so loud it shakes the windows of the grand lobby of the tower from floor to ceiling.  
  
As he is taking a drink of his coffee, Bruce see’s Vicki Vale motioning for him to come to her before the event begins. Knowing he only has a few moments, he rushes over to her, making sure he doesn’t spill his coffee.  
  
Vicki is standing by the hallway leading to the elevators and is dressed like a reporter would be; a medium length black skirt with her favorite pair of heels. A buttoned up white blouse with the sleeves rolled up but it took Bruce no time in noticing that she did not button her top couple of buttons which interns reveals her bust quite well. She has a pair of thick framed glasses on (she must have forgot her contacts) and her short blond hair is tied back in a squirrels tail. Bruce meanwhile, is wearing his three button black suit just like any other day he is at Wayne Enterprises.  
  
“I’ve been trying to call you every night, what’s going on Bruce?” Vicki asked with a bit of concern but demanding tone in her voice.  
  
“Vicki, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with work and stuff. And you’ve been filling in as a reporter on the news plus writing for the paper so I figured I wouldn’t bother you.”  
  
“Bruce I thought we were a couple. That’s what couples do, they bother each other. It’s life.” She responded in a commanding tone, letting Bruce know he wasn’t going to get off easy.  
  
“Look” Bruce said putting his hands on her shoulders. “For some reason or another, my life has been threatened by some man that no one knows who the hell he is. I refuse to put you in danger.”  
  
“Bruce, I don’t give a shit about that. I’m a big girl and I can handle myself. That’s pathetic pushing me away. You have to let someone in once and a while.”  
  
Not knowing what to say, Bruce looks out of the windows stretching from floor to ceiling in the lobby. The sky is getting increasingly darker with the approaching storm.  
  
“Fine you win Vicki. I don’t know why, but if you think you can handle yourself, I won’t stop you.”  
  
“Thank you. Now about your car… Can I keep it a bit longer maybe? Since I started filling in as an anchor down at the station, it’s saved me a ton of money on cab fare.”  
  
Bruce looks down at her face which greets him looking up with a smile.  
  
“Be careful with it Vicki. That’s my baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a conference to do.”  
  
“Thank you thank you thank you! Charlie will be back tomorrow so tonight’s my last night of anchoring. I’ll bring it by around noon tomorrow, okay?” She sees Bruce nod as he turns and walks back to the podium as she goes to her seat in the reporters section of the audience.  
  
Around 100 people showed up for the press conference, once again mostly stock holders or elderly people. But no one, not even Vicki or Bruce, seemed to notice the man wrapped in bandages standing in the shadows of the back wall of the lobby. 

  


LX

Thomas Elliot watches the press conference unseen in the back of the lobby, wrapped in bandages and his trench coat. On stage beside the glass windows depicting a stormy Gotham, Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox take turns speaking about different involvements and company politics for Wayne Enterprises.  
  
The first thing Bruce Wayne announces to the crowd is the absorption of England’s own Ascension Entertainment which is a popular video gaming industry. They hold a lot of finances and couldn’t quite get them right so Wayne Enterprises offered to step in and help.  
  
Lucius then took the microphone and spoke about raising security at the stock exchange, at least for holders of Wayne Enterprises and Sionis Industries stock. The value of every stock around them is declining but Lucius promised everyone in attendance in the dimly lit lobby that their stocks and bonds are safe and secure.  
  
As the meeting broke and the board members began to split up, Thomas Elliot took action. He decides to follow two board members who are the last to leave down the hallway leading to the elevators. The male was rather old, maybe mid 50’s, with a hunched back and hardly any hair. The female was younger, 30’s possibly, with shoulder length blond hair and a formal black dress. As the elevator opens the two board members enter and press for floor 41. Before the door could close to take them to their destination, a man wrapped in bandages slides in and presses floor 42.  
  
The elevator is poorly lit and was actually the next thing to be renovated in the Tower. Only a few lights worked as others just flickered. The compartment was big enough to hold about eight people, nothing more than that. It is really not a place to be if one is claustrophobic.  
  
Since it is a Saturday morning, no one will be on the upper floors of the tower so around the 25th floor, Thomas Elliot decides to make his move. He reaches up and punches out the two sections of the elevator with working lights, causing the small metal box to go completely black with the only lights coming from the buttons for the floors.  
  
Standing in front of the door, Elliot turns to the two board members occupying the elevator alongside him. The older man steps in front of the lady as if to protect her. This makes no difference to Elliot as he takes his scalpel from the trench coat pocket and slices it right through the man’s throat, causing him to fall to the floor without a sound. The female screams but no one hears her calls for help. Elliot looks at her as if contemplating on keeping her alive. He looks over at the only lights in the cabin, which read that they are on the 35th floor. With the destination looming closer, Elliot decides against his thought and reaches up her dress with his scalpel and feeling the correct position, cuts through her inner thigh and thus puncturing her femoral artery.  
  
When the elevator dings and opens on the 41st floor, Tommy steps out and looks back at the mess inside of the elevator. Blood is pooled and sprayed everywhere. The floor is almost covered from the female’s cut artery. While she lay bleeding out next to the old man, she looks up at Elliot’s eyes, as if pleading for her life. Smiling under the bandages, he stares back at his victim. Without saying a word he takes his pointer finger and presses it over his lips essentially telling his victim to “Hush.” 

LXI

As Bruce Wayne arrives back at his mansion after the press conference, he plans to enjoy a stormy afternoon by sitting in the study and reading the books he’s been putting off for so long. After he parked his black and white Audi A1 in the garage and walked through the kitchen and straight to the study, not even seeing Alfred waiting at the breakfast nook.  
  
Halfway across the foyer, his cell phone rings. Expecting the caller to be Vicki Vale and wanting to come over for a relaxing rainy Saturday, Bruce was shocked to see the name and number of the Gotham City Police Commissioner calling his personal cell phone at high noon.  
  
“Bruce” James Gordon’s voice from the other end greeted him.  
  
“I need you to come down to the police station. There’s been an incident at Wayne Enterprises; Two of the board members were murdered, John Pearl and Serah Watson.”  
  
“I… I don’t understand. They were right there at the conference.”  
  
“Bruce, we are still trying to piece it together too. They were both found dead in the elevator. We have surveillance footage I’d like you to watch with me. Any help we can get is appreciated.”  
  
“Sure, I’ll be right down. But I have to write a statement and release it to the press on behalf of the company.”  
  
“I spoke to Lucius Fox earlier. He took care of all public relations. He insisted I call you as well. He said you’d the one that would want to see the video the most.” 

LXII

To Bruce, it seemed like he had been in the police commissioner’s office way to many times in the last few weeks. Once in most peoples opinion was too many but Bruce has been there at least three more times than that but somehow managed to never be in trouble with the law.  
  
While watching the video, Gordon asks Bruce if the man in the bandages looks anymore familiar. Both of them had seen him at the party for Jim, then Bruce the night after. But there is still no trace of him anywhere.  
  
“Why didn’t he try to kill me like he did Loeb at the party? I mean I was right there on stage.”  
  
“I don’t know Mr. Wayne. He seemed to have this well planned out though. It’s either that or he is damn lucky.”  
  
As the two men sit in silence watching the video, looking for any evidence leading to a lead on the murderer, Officer Edge appears in the doorway and asks to see Gordon for a minute. Leaving Bruce alone, Jim walks out and closes the door. Bruce takes quick advantage of the loneliness and pulls out a flash drive from his pocket. It takes Gordon’s old Dell computer a few moments to recognize the device but Bruce works fast. Before the computer is even finished installing the driver device software, Bruce has made a copy of the footage and is waiting to place it on the drive for his personal use. He knew that the G.C.P.D. had all footage from all cameras in Wayne Tower so this would be Bruce’s only opportunity to snag the footage for himself.  
  
As the rain continues to drown Gotham on this Saturday afternoon, Bruce now has one goal in mind. He slips out of Gordon’s office and down through the center of the police station and right to his Audi A1 parked in front. Off to the Batcave.  
  
When Gordon gets back into his office, he is saddened to see Bruce gone but curious when he finds a note on his computer.  
  
Gordon,  
I’m sorry I couldn’t have been of more help. I had to leave to see Lucius who needed my assistance. Call me if you need anything else.  
Bruce Wayne

LXIII

Frustration overtakes Bruce as he sits in front of his computer analyzing the footage he took from Gordon. The video being in nothing but grey doesn’t help either, making it more difficult to A, notice anything different and B, to watch in general. Bruce has seen the same elevator open countless times and ends with the same result: nothing.  
  
The man’s face and body are wrapped in bandages and his trench coat. He has gloves on his hands. There is literally no way to trace him other than this video.  
  
Just as Bruce is about to give in and head back into the study, a brief movement of the man’s coat flashes open when he steps forward to get into the elevator. Using the computer to zoom in as much as possible, and then enhance the quality, Bruce discovers his first lead of the bandaged man.  
  
A label on the inside flap of the coat reads:  
  
Gotham General  
T.E.  
  
LXIV

Calling Alfred down the steps in a hurry, Bruce races over to the table behind the computer, tripping on the chair again and begins to put on the suit he’s worn just a few times before.  
  
Alfred meanwhile, is running as fast as he can down the dark steps, praying he doesn’t fall and break his neck in the cave. Once over at the computer, he follows the orders Bruce gives him.  
  
“Alfred, I need you to cross reference every employee at Gotham General with the initials T.E.”  
  
Alfred begins searching frantically on the computer’s massive screen, using numerous databases to find what he is looking for.  
  
“There are five employees with those initials Master Bruce. Timothy Eller, Tara Eller, Tina Efran, Trafford Elsser and Thomas Elliot.”  
  
Dressed in the entire suit except for the cowl which he is carrying, Bruce walks over to the computer to view the findings with Alfred.  
  
“We can rule out the females. The body build from the video and when I’ve heard him speak personally, it is certainly a man.”  
  
“So what do you do then sir?” Alfred asks but only to see Bruce putting on the cowl and walking to the black Batmobile.  
  
Without turning to answer Alfred, Bruce responds “Start with who I know and work from there. Thomas Elliot.”

LXV

Outside of Wayne Manor in the pouring rain, Vicki Vale arrives in Bruce’s dark grey Nissan GT-R. When she knocks on the door, she receives no respone which she finds very strange. Running through the mud that was once the clay driveway of Wayne Manor, she begins to peer into the windows, thinking she may catch Bruce or Alfred asleep. Yet she finds nothing. Going back to the front door, she knocks and rings the doorbell one last time. Again, she gets nothing.  
  
As she begins to walk back to the car, she notices the window of the study is slightly ajar. As she wades through the mud and puddles and flowers in front of the window, she is able to pull it out just far enough to get her hand in and unlock it entirely. Once unlocked, she slides the window to its full extension and climbs in. Knowing Bruce (or rather Alfred) will be angry about the mud on the floor, she strips off her black polka-dot rain boots right under the window of the study.  
  
As she looks around for something to use to dry off, she notices something out of the ordinary in the study. The grandfather clock against the wall near the bookshelf is standing ajar. Seeing this strange sight would intrigue even the slowest mind, and Vicki Vale being as smart as she is, quickly begins to investigate.  
  
When she walks over and puts her blue painted nails on the clock, it easily swings forward on its hinges, revealing a wide opening into dark depths of who knows where. With curiosity getting the better of her, she walks straight into the darkness not knowing what to expect. Luckily, she had he hands against the walls balancing herself because the she missed the first step and would have rolled her way all the way to the bottom.  
  
Carefully descending the dark staircase into what seemed like oblivion, Vicki Vale was inching closer and closer to uncovering what lay behind the grandfather clock in the Wayne Manor study. 

LXVI

The rain continues to blanket Gotham City as Bruce Wayne climbs up the fire escape of Thomas Elliot’s apartment building clad in his ‘Batsuit’. Having gotten the address from Alfred on the way to the apartment, Bruce made no hesitation to climb up and enter through the window of the kitchen.  
  
“Thomas?” Bruce calls out in a deep gravelly voice (used to disguise his recognizable voice of Bruce Wayne).  
  
No answer.  
  
As he climbs through the window, he takes note of how plan the apartment is. The kitchen cabinets are wood once painted white but faded with age with countertops to match. The kitchen is a dingy yellow which doesn’t appear to have been cleaned in a long time. Leading from the kitchen is the living room which has one plain brown sofa and a small 26 inch television on a coffee table. In the open floor plan of the apartment, a small dining room table and a few chairs are set up just feet away from the sofa. There is nothing on the table except a thin layer of dust. So far, Bruce has found nothing linking Elliot to the bandaged man.  
  
The bathroom is a plain sky blue with one single toothbrush on the counter and opaque shower curtain. The bathroom also has not been cleaned in a while. Either Thomas Elliot didn’t live here often or just didn’t care about the filth that the apartment has accumulated.  
  
Finally Bruce ends in the lone bedroom of the apartment. It’s a normal bedroom with one long dresser and a full size mattress. Nothing special here either. That is until Bruce opened the closet.  
  
When the closet doors are open, all of Bruce’s questions are answered. Stacked on the floor of the closet are boxes and boxes of medical grade bandages. On the shelves are more boxes of surgical gloves. On the next level of shelves are countless rolls of construction grade plastic and on the other side are boxes of extra strength trash bags.  
  
Speechless, Bruce stumbles back onto the unmade bed. His once best and only friend has become the monster Bruce swore to bring down. Thomas Elliot is the bandaged man. Thomas Elliot is a murderer.  
  
LXVII

Sitting in his green Subaru Outback, Thomas Elliot is dry from the rain pouring down around him in the gardens of Wayne Manor. Parked far enough from the house to remain hidden but close enough to see what is happening, Elliot waits for Vicki Vale to find a way into the mansion.  
  
Ever since he left the press conference, Thomas had been following Vicki Vale. Now is the time to put everything into motion. Bruce Wayne is rattled at the fact two of his board members were killed by the man who threatened his life. Now he will know what it feels like to suffer.  
  
While still wrapped in his bandages and coat, Thomas waits to make his move, seeing if Vicki is able to get inside the mansion. When he sees her open the window and slide into the study of the manor, he knew right then that the time to strike is now.  
  
In the rain, he drives his Subaru straight to the window where Vicki climbed in. Getting out, he notices immediately the grandfather clock standing wide open to the left.  
  
“She even left a trail right to her. This is too easy.” He thought.  
  
LXVIII

The darkness seems to be swallowing Vicki as she slowly descends the steps one by one. In her mind, they just keep going and going, not seeming likely to end.  
  
Bright lights bring her both out of the darkness and into some sort of cave. Caught between utter confusion and curiously intrigued, she looks around in amazement, taking in the now brightly lit hidden cave she is standing in.  
  
To her left is an area large enough to park a military tank or at least something similar in size. To the right is an empty table surrounded by three filing cabinets. In front of the table is the largest computer Vicki has ever seen. In her apartment, it would take up an entire wall, plus some more. Sitting at that computer is none other than Bruce Wayne’s butler.  
  
“Ms. Vale…. I… Uhm… What are you doing down here?”  
  
It became clear quite quickly that Vicki was the first person besides Bruce and Alfred to be in the cave and she clearly didn’t belong here.  
  
“I’m sorry Alfred. I brought Bruce’s car back to him and no one answered the door. The window to the study was open so I sort of helped myself. Then I saw the clock off the wall and well curiosity took over. And now here I am. Oh and don’t worry. I took off my muddy boots before I walked around the house.”  
  
Alfred for some reason or another looked down at Vicki, who wiggled her toes in her plaid knee-high socks.  
  
“Ms. Vale, you really should go. If Master Bruce found out about this he’d kill us both.”  
  
“Where is Bruce anyway?” Vicki asked as she began to wander around the cave and opening the filing cabinets. In the first one she opens, the extra smoke pellets and Bat-a-rangs Bruce keeps are stored, once again causing curiosity and many questions to rise in Vicki’s mind.  
  
Seeing no other choice, Alfred takes a deep breath and fearing the repercussions from Bruce, leads Vicki to the seat at the computer.  
  
“Vicki” Alfred began. “I am going to tell you everything that is happening in the cave and why. I need to know you will not tell anyone, ever, about what you seen and what you heard. Understand?” 

LXIX

Driving back to Wayne Manor in the dark and rainy night, Bruce cannot wrap his head around what he just found in Thomas Elliot’s apartment. There may not have been any evidence in the open layout of the plain dirty apartment but what was hidden in the closest spoke volumes. Thomas Elliot was the man at Wayne Enterprises that day. He was there at the circus. He was at Gordon’s party. And he made a death threat to Bruce’s life. Twice.  
  
Not paying the proper amount of attention to the road, Bruce speeds through the heart of Gotham toward the outskirts and his mansion. Not realizing he is doing it, every car he passes gets sideswiped by the black military style vehicle. This has happened before and nothing comes of it but this time, a car that was hit pulls out of traffic and turns on a red and blue light bar on top. A Gotham City police officer.  
  
Bruce, seeing the flashing lights behind him knows he can’t pull over and can’t go home. Coming quickly down the freeway is a left exit off of the highway which Bruce swiftly turns the Batmobile toward and begins to barrel his way off of the freeway. Now behind him are two more police cruisers. On the city streets, Bruce finds a parking garage to drive into. The squad cars cannot keep up with the all-wheel drive nature of the military style Batmobile, causing them to slide and over steer on the wet pavement.  
  
The ones able to keep up with Bruce have been lead on a merry chase around and around the parking garage, all the way to the top floor where the cement is wet. Bruce slams on the accelerator and speeds as fast as possible to the end of the roof. The officers still in pursuit think they have him cornered and begin to pull off and build a perimeter with their cars, not allowing him to come back through.  
  
To everyone’s utter amazement, the car they had been chasing for five miles now on the rain drenched streets of Gotham City just jumped from the roof of the parking garage to the street below. Speechless and unknowing what to do, the police watch as the all black vehicle speeds its way back to the highway and continue the way it was going.  
  
In the Batmobile, Bruce makes sure to slow down once he is back on the freeway. He just made his first official public appearance to the G.C.P.D. and it wasn’t a good start. Bruce, or at least his car, is a wanted man. 

  


LXX

Alfred told the shortest version of the story about Bruce becoming the Batman as he could but managed to cover all of the important details.  
  
“So Bruce dresses like a Bat to symbolize fear? Just like the bats did to the man that killed his parents and saved his life?”  
  
“You are correct Ms. Vale” Alfred responded.  
  
“But how in the hell does he get all of this equipment? This technology?”  
  
“Bruce is the richest person in Gotham City and works at the third richest company in the world. Shouldn’t that answer your question?”  
  
Before Vicki could respond, a beeping sound then a muffled radio broadcast breaks the silence in the room.  
  
“All units, there is a large military vehicle heading North on the Gotham Freeway. It evaded three squad cars by jumping off of a parking garage. If seen approach with extreme caution. I repeat, large black military vehicle heading north. Approach with caution.”  
  
“That would be Bruce there. I suppose he had a run in with the authorities and lead them on a merry chase. Otherwise, he’d probably be back by now.”  
  
“I am familiar with a police scanner from my times in the van at the Gotham Gazette. They used to send me around chasing breaking stories. I’m sure whoever is there tonight just heard that as well.”  
  
“Ah yes Ms. Vale I meant to ask you, why aren’t you on the television tonight?”  
  
“Oh well Charlie came back a day early, which meant I have today and tomorrow to mys-“  
  
At the top of the dark stairs, a very loud slam echoed down to them. Not sure what to expect, they both stay still. If it was Bruce, he must have parked the wanted Batmobile in front of his home. Vicki could think of numerous reasons why that would be a stupid.  
  
“Master Bruce?” Alfred calls out, hoping he gets the response he wanted and not the one he feared.  
  
Heavy boot-falls echo down the staircase until a man appears at the bottom that certainly is not Bruce Wayne.  
  
“Almost. But not quite old friend.” Said the man wrapped in bandages and a trench coat that just appeared at the brightly lit base of the steps. 

LXXI

Bruce returns to the cave and out of the torrential downpour bursting to tell Alfred the news of what he discovered. When he steps out of the Batmobile however, the cave is brightly lit but there is no one to be seen.  
  
Curious, Bruce takes off the cowl and walks over to the computer, his footsteps echoing in the empty hollow cavern. As he tosses the cowl on the table behind him he notices a handwritten letter on the keyboard. Upon reading it, Bruce’s worst fears come to the forefront and he immediately regrets bringing Alfred into the mess he’s created.  
  
“Your Butler and your Girlfriend are with me now. I haven’t killed them yet; I want you to suffer, as I did. I figure you know who I am by now, with all this fancy technology. Speaking of, I like the setup here Brucey. Not quite my style but whatever suits you I suppose. But seriously, what’s with all the Bats? From now on and when I inevitably see you later, I think I will call you… The BATMAN. See you soon!  
  
Hush.”  
  
LXXII

Bruce rereads the note in the bright fluorescent lights of the cave, not able to comprehend what he’s just read. With only one option remaining, he grabs the cowl from the table whence he threw it and runs to the Batmobile. Once inside, he drives it faster than he ever had before with so many thoughts racing through his mind.  
  
Not only did Vicki Vale figure out his secret somehow, Thomas Elliot also now knows and has taken both Vicki and Alfred hostage. Alongside that, the police are still searching for the vehicle Bruce is currently driving which makes getting to central downtown Gotham much more difficult than just regular city traffic.  
  
Through the wet streets Bruce drives, getting ever closer to Vicki and Alfred in Elliot’s apartment. Having no idea how this has happened or why Elliot has done this, Bruce feels regret for everything he’s done. He brought Alfred into it as well as Lucius. Now Vicki Vale knows and is in danger by the one man Bruce once called a best friend.  
  
But the worst of it all is Bruce still has yet more regret coming to him very, very soon.  
  
LXIII

James Gordon is in the process of finally getting ready to go home after a long stressful day in Gotham City. The birthday of his eldest daughter Barbara who turns 16 tomorrow, will be very upset if he isn’t able to take part in any family functions. As he is watching the footage from Wayne Enterprises, fatigue and exhaustion take control of his body, causing him to give in and head home on this rainy Saturday night.  
  
Just as he begins to pack up, he catches something on the tape he hadn’t seen before. Perhaps it’s just the fatigue taking over or the sudden movement from him moving to pull out something from his mahogany desk, but something made him think the bandaged man’s trench coat opened up revealing a tag. If nothing else, it’s the first lead he had on this man.  
  
Standing over his computer, he rewinds the footage, more so to convince himself it was nothing and that he should go home. He was wrong. Embroidered on the flap of the coat is more than just a tag telling the size and maker of the tag reads Gotham General with the initials T.E.”  
  
“Officer Edge, get in here!”  
  
“What’s wrong commissioner? I thought you were going home.” She said as she stood in the open doorway to Gordon’s office, also ready to go home.  
  
“Edge, we have a lead. I need you to cross reference every employee at Gotham General with the initials T.E.”  
  
Officer Edge nods and calls for another officer to help. Gordon puts his tweed jacket on the back of his chair and pulls out his cellphone. Seeing the time is ten minutes to midnight, he sends a text message to his wife Barbara (whom his daughter is named for).  
  
“Barb, we have a lead and I will need to stay for I don’t know how long. Tell Barbara I said Happy Birthday and I’ll be home as soon as I can.”  
  
By the time Gordon puts his iPhone back into his coat pocket, Officer Edge appears in the doorway with a piece of paper.  
  
“There’s five of them commissioner. Where do we start?”  
  
Knowing this might be their only chance to catch the bandaged murderer, he has no other choice.  
  
“I don’t how many people are here right now but we need to send two cars to each address. We can hit them all at the same time, no fuss or fight. Get every available officer in here pronto. We leave in five minutes. After you call them in, take Officer Parker and follow my car. Five minutes.”  
  
“But sir, where do I send them?”  
  
“Everywhere that isn’t Thomas Elliot. That’s our address.” 

LXXIV

Thomas Elliot is pacing his apartment waiting for Bruce Wayne to arrive. His mind has been racing all night, or at least ever since he took Vicki Vale and Alfred Penneyworth from the cave beneath Wayne Manor.  
  
The two hostages he took are bound and gagged to the dining room chairs in his apartment. They’re not able to scream out for help because of the surgical gloves shoved down their throat nor are they able to free themselves due to the bandages and medical tape keeping them in the wooden chairs. Soon both of them will lay dead in front of Bruce Wayne and Elliot will enjoy watching him suffer in the agony.  
  
“So when do you think your precious Bruce will show up Ms. Vale? Or will he even come at all? I’m sure a blond bombshell and an English butler are easy to replace, especially for a guy like him.”  
  
As he walks past her, Vicki Vale tries to send as much hate and malice through her blue eyes into Thomas Elliot but there is simply nothing she can do.  
  
He walks past Alfred who is seated close to the bedroom with Vicki across from his near the couch. Thomas Elliot runs his fingers through the butler’s hair, toying with him as a child does with their food. Elliot hasn’t stopped smiling beneath the bandages since he sedated Vicki and Alfred and laid them in his Subaru. Good thing about those station wagons; there is plenty of cargo space.  
  
Just as he turns to walk back to Vicki and taunt her even more, a dark shadow appears in the hallway from the bedroom followed by a deep, gruff and gravelly voice.  
  
“Let them go Elliot.”  
  
“Ahhh look Vicki, Alfred. The BAT is here to save you. Welcome Bruce, to my humble abode. It isn’t much compared to your mansion but it serves its purpose.”  
  
“Thomas you really don’t want to do this. Let them go.”  
  
“Do what Batman? Slit their throats and watch you suffer? I think I do!”

LXXV

Thomas Elliot pulls out the scalpel from his coat pocket and twirls it through his fingers, like a drummer with a drumstick. Walking around his dining room table and admiring his hostages, Elliot never takes his eyes off of Bruce Wayne.  
  
“I don’t want to fight you Thomas.” Bruce says as he emerges from the dark hallway into the light of the main floor plan. For the first time, both Vicki Vale and Thomas Elliot see Bruce Wayne in his Batsuit. Literally every inch of him is covered in either black or gray armor except for his nose and mouth. The ears of his mask stick up a good six inches above his head. A symbol of fear. A symbol of hope. Are they one in the same?  
  
“Which one will make you suffer more Bruce?” Elliot taunts, walking around between Vicki and Alfred, running the scalpel through their hair.  
“Will it be your only friend for life, the English butler?” he brings the scalpel to his throat.  
  
“Or you blond beauty of this summer?” he walks to Vicki and places the scalpel at her throat.  
  
When Bruce sees Elliot place the blade near Vicki’s throat that is the final straw. He stays calm and begins to walk around the table forcing Elliot to circle it as well. The once best friends now circle the table like a pair of wolves fighting over prey in a cold white winter. Unseen by everyone, Bruce slips a Bat-a-Rang out of his sleeve and begins counting as the two continue to stalk each other.  
  
One.  
  
Two.  
  
Three.  
  
On three, Bruce throws the sharp piece of metal at the unexpecting Thomas Elliot, causing him to fall over the couch which he was nearest. In a rush, Bruce is able to get to Alfred and undo his binds. Slicing the bandages and tape with another Bat-a-Rang, Alfred is able to free himself of the gloves in his mouth.  
  
“The car is downstairs. Take the fire escape down. Be ready.” Bruce demands in his gruff voice as Alfred nods his agreement and runs to his freedom.  
  
“Now I will make you suffer Wayne. Just as you did to me.” Elliot yells as he regains his footing. In on swift motion, he steps from the living area to the dining chair closest to him which contains Vicki Vale. Taking the scalpel in one fell swoop, he slices through her throat, resulting in a waterfall of crimson to stream out onto the dining table and to the floor beneath. Vicki Vale lay dead on the table by the hands of Thomas Elliot in front of a speechless and horrified Bruce Wayne. 

LXXVI

Alfred Pennyworth is running down the fire escape as fast as his old brittle bones will allow it. Having just been held against his will by a mad man who was once Bruce Wayne’s best friend, his Saturday night could only have gotten worse by falling down the wet metal fire escape. Fortunately for him, that didn’t happen.  
  
When he is free of the fire escape, his ears hear a sound that really is not wanted at the apartment he just came from. Police sirens.  
  
Alfred gets into the Batmobile which sat parked just a few steps away from him. Suddenly on a time crunch he sits in the driver’s seat and looks around.  
  
He screams out loud to himself “Bruce you didn’t tell me how to drive this bloody thing!”  
  
Frantically he begins mashing buttons and praying no missiles or fire erupts from the machine. Eventually he found the button that starts the machine and thankfully it drives like a regular vehicle with a gas and brake pedal.  
  
Alfred slams on the gas and takes turns right at the next intersection at 40mph and not a moment too soon. He turns the Batmobile around to see two squad cars reading G.C.P.D. pull up in front of the apartment building.  
  
Two officers depart from the first car and rush to the front door. Two more emerge from the second Alfred recognizes one of them instantly; James Gordon.  
  
Gordon motions for the officer that was in his car to cover the back side of the building as he follows the first two in the front door.  
  
“Come on Bruce.” Alfred thinks out loud.  
  
“Get Ms. Vale and get out while you have a bloody chance.”

LXXVII

The first thought that crosses Bruce’s mind is to stop the bleeding. In one lunge, Bruce pulls back his right arm and pushes it forward with all of his might, catching Thomas Elliot square in the bandaged jaw, knocking him to the floor but still conscious.  
  
Bruce takes his hand and puts it to Vicki’s neck in hopes of stopping the bleeding somehow but the effort is futile. He looks her in the blue eyes he admired so much and without disguising his voice, he utters:  
  
“Vicki… I’m sorry. I tried to help you. It’s my fault. I’m… So sorry.”  
  
Thomas Elliot begins to laugh as he uses the coffee table to help steady his balance when he stands up.  
  
“Oh now Bruce. Hush. Are you suffering? Like I did?”  
  
Bruce lifts his head up from Vicki’s who he just kissed his final goodbye on her forehead. With nothing but pure hatred for the man that he once called his friend standing in front of him, Bruce balls up his fist, ready to do whatever it takes to make him pay.  
  
“How did you suffer Thomas? Your parent’s death was an accident. Why are you taking it out on me?”  
  
“Bruce my parent’s death was no accident! I tried to kill them! My father deserved to die! My mother was to die so she didn’t suffer from him any longer. Yet she lived! For 14 more years! Because of you and your dead father!”  
  
“How is this my fau-“Bruce started to yell in return but was interrupted by a hard rapping on the wooden apartment door.  
  
“G.C.P.D. Open the door!” came a voice that Bruce just heard hours before.  
  
The police know Elliot is the bandaged murderer. 

LXXVIII

“We’re not finished Wayne. Nowhere close.” Elliot yells through his bandages.  
  
Thomas Elliot can’t be taken to jail. At least not until he is lying like Vicki Vale is at his dining room table. Making a fast decision, he jumps towards Bruce, shoving him into the kitchen and runs down the hallway into the bedroom and right out into the building’s other fire escape. From the street below, Bruce would swear he heard a faint yell cut short but didn’t have time to do anything about it.  
  
Turning from Vicki’s body in the chair next to him to the fire escape where he came in, Bruce Wayne has to make a decision; stay and inform the authorities about everything and try to prove he is a good guy or flee and leave Vicki lying there like a meal left out after preparation. Before he could make his choice, Jim Gordon decides to make it for him.  
  
One swift hit from the heavy boot that one of the accompanying officers is wearing was more than capable of knocking down the locked door into the apartment. What Gordon didn’t expect to see is a man dressed like a bat in a heavily armored suit standing in the dining room facing them with a broken chair and coffee table and a bloody body to his right.  
  
“Commissioner listen to me. I’m on your side.” Bruce pleads when the police are revealed behind the broken door.  
  
Instinctively the three police officers do as they are trained to do and pull their standard issue .40 caliber weapons from their holsters.  
  
“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing. Step away from the body and put your hands on the table.” Gordon commands.  
  
The female officer behind him that Bruce recognized as Officer Edge called for backup as Gordon and the other young blond man step into the apartment and closer to Bruce.  
  
Bruce steps back from Vicki’s body and into the opening of the hallway, trying to figure a way to convince the Gotham City Police Department that even though he is dressed like a heavily armored man-bat creature, he is in fact the one trying to serve justice in this situation, no matter how it appears. 

LXXIX

“Call for paramedics! Fast!” Gordon yells as he checks the pulse on Vicki Vale’s wrist but is not able to find one.  
  
The young blond boy kneels down next to her body and calls for 911 as Gordon and the female officer still have their guns trained on Bruce. Having no other option, Bruce tries his best to explain the situation.  
  
“I am not the one you’re after. The man you are looking for is Thomas Elliot. He is an employee at Gotham General and is the bandaged murderer. Look in the closet, there are boxes of gloves and bandages and garbage bags and rolls of plastic.”  
  
Gordon listened to the man in front of him but another thought began to creep into his mind. He’s seen this man before and not until now did he recognize who he is.  
  
“You were at the church the night that body was found beside it from the cellphone footage. You were standing near the roof at the stained glass. What are you?”  
  
This response was certainly not the one Bruce was expecting but it is ten times better than what it could have been.  
  
“I’m a symbol of both fear and hope. The justice system is flawed and I want to fix it. I came here in search of Thomas Elliot. I will tell you that I know he has killed this woman and the two at Wayne Enterprises building this morning. From the news reports, he has also killed Commissioner Loeb and the acrobats at the circus. I’d be willing to be he is the cause of the missing Gotham General workers as well.”  
  
“Why are you telling me this?” Gordon asked, finally lowering his weapon and motioning Nina Edge to do the same.  
  
“I want to help you. You have to believe me.”  
  
The police officers stand there looking at him with skeptical expressions while waiting for the backup.  
  
“Show me the supplies.” Gordon tells him.  
  
Officer Edge begins to intervene but Gordon brushes it aside, willing to see if the man in front of him is telling the truth. Slowly he follows him down the hallway as the two remaining officers pull their guns back up and wait at the mouth of it, for just one sign that something has gone wrong.  
  
In the bedroom, Bruce opens the closet doors to reveal the supplies that Thomas Elliot has been using. Something new to Bruce since he was last here is the word “Hush” marked into every container in the closet.  
  
“I don’t understand.” Gordon says to Bruce as he picks up a box of bandages with “Hush” written all over it.  
  
“Why are you dressed up like a lunatic? Why not be a police officer?”  
  
“I told you the system is flawed. I work alone. Let me go, I will bring him to you.”  
  
Gordon is quiet while thinking and looking at the supplies in the closet.  
  
“I believe you. I don’t know why but for some god forsaken reason, I do. This town needs something more than the police and I’ll be the first to admit it. But you and I both know you just can’t walk out of here.”  
  
“I can arrange that.” Bruce responds and without hesitation he grabs a smoke pellet and throws it to the ground, causing the entire bedroom to be engulfed in thick gray smoke. From the sounds of the pellet going off and Gordon coughing, the two officers rush into the room with guns drawn to find Gordon alone in a plain bedroom with a closet full of medical supplies.  
  
The Batman is gone.  
  
LXXX

In the dead of night, Thomas Elliot flees from his apartment to the outskirts of Gotham City in his green Subaru. By now he is a wanted man and knows he can’t have much more time left.  
  
Driving into another thunderstorm on the horizon, Elliot arrives in the long driveway of the home belonging to Roman Sionis. As he gets out of his car and walks across the water drenched grass to the front door, he rings the doorbell and knocks three times. While waiting for an answer, he begins unraveling his bandages. After just a moment’s wait, lights flash on behind the wooden door with glass panels which is soon opened by a taller man wearing what appears to be a wooden mask.  
  
“Thomas Elliot as I live and breathe.” Roman Sionis greets him in a surprised tone. “What can I do for you at midnight?”  
  
Having nowhere else to go Thomas Elliot has to see this through. “Roman, you’re the only ‘friend’ I have left that can help me. I’ve done some bad things and I need a place to stay.”  
  
“Well come in, it’s about to storm.” Roman responds as he opens the door wide enough to allow Thomas to enter.  
  
“Come to the kitchen. I just opened a bottle of whiskey. I feel I’m in for a story so might as well enjoy it right?” Roman asked as he leads Thomas down the entrance hallway which leads straight to the kitchen.  
  
The two men each take a seat on a barstool placed under the granite countertop of a kitchen island which also holds the dishwasher with pots and pans hanging overhead. Out of the back windows which line the rest of the kitchen back wall, lightning flashes illuminate the backyard of the Sionis house where a small shed like structure is kept.  
  
“So Thomas. What the fuck is going on?” Roman asks as he pours two glasses half full of pure Irish whiskey.  
  
Thomas Elliot recalls the entire story to Roman Sionis in his kitchen as a storm rolls in front the west over the ocean. He begins with him trying to kill his parents but ends up being thwarted by the Wayne family. He then goes on to explain his grudge against Bruce and what he’s done since he began working at Gotham General. Finally he explains the events of the previous day (since it is now Sunday) and how he murdered the board members at Wayne Enterprises and Vicki Vale in his apartment. Now that the whiskey bottle is three quarters of the way empty and the stories are told, Roman Sionis tries to recap everything he’s learned.  
  
“So Bruce Wayne dresses up like a Bat and tries to solve crimes. And he tried to stop you tonight after he found out it was you murdering everyone?”  
  
“Yeah that’s about right.” Elliot agrees as he drains the remnants of his third glass of whiskey.  
  
Slowly an idea forms behind the black mask of Roman Sionis. An idea that will help everyone involved for the better, except for Bruce Wayne.  
  
“Thomas, your parents left you a small fortune right and other than college you haven’t touched it?”  
  
Thomas Elliot nods not sure how money has anything to do with what the two men just spoke about.  
  
“I have a proposition for you.” I lost a hefty amount of money a while back when Wayne Enterprises bought my company and some people are really mad at me for that. How about I let you stay here for as long as you want, life for all I care, in exchange for the amount of money I need. And on top of all that, if Bruce Wayne really is hunting for you, he’ll be here by tomorrow night. Let’s set a trap for that son of a bitch and blow his bat brains all over the wall.” 

LXXXI

The sunlight after a night of rain is the only light in the study of Wayne Manor the morning after Vicki Vale’s life was taken from her by a man the media is now calling Hush.  
  
On Bruce’s lap is a folded piece of paper which reads ‘Gotham Gazette” on the front. The main article on the newspaper reads out ‘Thomas Elliot, a.k.a. Hush Wanted For Murder of 6’ A smaller headline in the left column says “Serial Killer Strikes Again”, and across from that on the right column is a biography of Vicki Vale and the accomplishments she had managed to achieve in her short life and even shorter career.  
  
Bruce Wayne had been up all night thinking about the events that took place the night before; afraid sleep will cause those events to replay over and over in his mind. As the early morning hours draw to a close and the sun begins to creep up over the stormy nighttime clouds, Bruce reads the article about Vicki and the article about ‘Hush’ over and over.  
  
Around 7am Bruce hears Alfred moving around in the kitchen; probably making breakfast for the two of them. Making the most movement he had since he went out to get the morning paper at the crack of summer’s dawn, Bruce makes his way across the foyer to the kitchen. Sure enough, Alfred is there in the refrigerator doing his job.  
  
“Alfred, you better not be making breakfast for me.”  
  
“For you Master Wayne? You can make your own breakfast, can’t you?” The tone in Alfred’s voice made Bruce feel loads better. Knowing that Alfred too could have lost his life last night but is awake early and making breakfast the next day shows Bruce that his one true friend is right and well.  
  
“Bruce. You need to get some sleep. And you did an awful lot of bloody talking in that voice you do last night. I’ll bring you up some toast and tea. Go on.”  
  
Knowing better than to argue, Bruce turns around and begins climbing the staircase to his bedroom. Still not having taken over his parent’s master bedroom, Bruce turns left in the foyer and follows the path to the east wing. Thankful that the curtains are pulled so there is no sun, Bruce lays stomach first on his king bed without undoing any sheets. Yet the instance his eyes close, he has an epiphany that will keep him up until nightfall.  
  
Thomas Elliot had one other friend as a child. And that friend is mutual with Bruce: Thomas Elliot is hiding at the house of Roman Sionis.  
  
LXXXII

After a stormy night on the Gotham City streets, Victor Zsasz has had another successful mission. Having avoided the rain by ducking off into restaurants that are open 24/7, it lead to another zombie being saved.  
  
Now in the morning dew of Gotham, Victor Zsasz begins walking back to the alley where he takes refuge and lies low. The one thought that keeps crossing his mind is the fact that August is just around the corner and he hasn’t been caught yet. For all he knows, the authorities don’t even know who he is. Perhaps they weren’t able to find or connect the hand print from the side of the church to him.  
  
Looking down at his forearm, Victor sees 14 tally marks. 14 zombies have been saved from the life they were mindlessly living. If only he can help more. There are so many that need it but he can only do so little.  
  
Taking the knife from his pocket, he remembers his latest salvation from the rainy night in Gotham. She was just a fast food worker doing her job and making money. But to Victor, she marks the 15th person he has saved. It says so, right here on his forearm.  
  
LXXXIII

Sleep was not able to take over Bruce Wayne at any time throughout the day. All that crossed Bruce’s mind was what he was going to do when he arrived at Roman Sionis’ house at nightfall and how much the events of the past week snowballed to one large conclusion. To Bruce the anticipation was like the calm before the storm; he knew something was coming but he couldn’t do anything to bring it faster.  
  
After a day of restlessly sitting around and waiting in Wayne Manor, night finally falls after a warm summer day in Gotham City. Once darkness started to creep over the horizon, Bruce took action. He dressed in his suit faster than ever before and pushed the Batmobile faster than it had ever gone all to get to the Sionis house as fast as possible.  
  
Standing on the roof of the good sized house, Bruce looks to the west and admires the sunset. He is trying to find a way into the home without being immediately seen when a sudden idea crosses his mind. Seeing as it is summer so there is obviously no fire in the chimney. As he walks over and looks down into the dark void, Bruce knows he found a way into the house.  
  
Down the chimney Bruce falls quietly as a mouse. Emerging on the hearth, he is relieved to find no one sitting in the entertainment area. In front of him is the doorway to the entry way which is as vacant as the formal dining area to his right. From his vantage point, he can see the kitchen through the left side of the dining room. The kitchen is a central location for most houses so Bruce decides to start investigating there. A smell crosses his senses but he can’t quite tell what it is so he carries on.  
  
The granite countertops glisten in the fluorescent lights above them reflecting off of the pots and pans. The stainless steel appliances look like they get a fair share of use but the house is in very good condition. Through the windows behind the counters Bruce sees the sunset from a different point of view though part of it is obstructed by a shed like object in the backyard.  
  
On the center island is an empty bottle of Irish whiskey and two glasses. Curious as to why he hasn’t come across anyone in the house (because there were a few cars in the driveway); Bruce is caught off guard by a piece of paper taped to the backside of the whiskey bottle. Instinctively, he picks it up and fears the worst after it is read…  
  
You fell gloriously into our trap! How is your bat-nose working? Do you smell the natural gas building up in the kitchen? You will suffer soon. Hush.  
  
LXXXIV

Bruce tries to run to the other side of the kitchen and through the back door until a tall figure suddenly appears behind the sliding glass door. Roman Sionis is outside of the house wearing his infamous black mask. Bruce immediately notices the mask is now made of wood instead of the cloth Halloween mask he used to wear. Opening the doors, Roman steps into his house leaving Bruce no escape through the back.  
  
“Well well Bruce. It’s been a while. How have you been? And what is with the get up?” Sionis greets his once fake childhood friend. The wooden mask distorts his voice a bit, making it sound muffled.  
  
‘Roman we need to get out. Now. Thomas Elliot was here and has leaked gas into the entire house. The slightest spark will see it off!”  
  
“I know Bruce. I helped him. Turn around.”  
  
Standing behind Bruce is Thomas Elliot, blocking both the entry way exit and the way Bruce came in through the dining room. Bruce realizes that this is the first time he’s seen Thomas Elliot without the bandages since the day after Gordon’s party. The day after he threatened his life.  
  
“There’s no escape Batman. You’re ours.” Elliot taunts him, wondering what he will do next.  
  
Bruce turns from Elliot to Sionis, trying to quickly think of a way out of the house before it explodes. When he turns back to Roman, he pulls a gun from a holster he had hidden behind his back. Admiring the pistol he unstrapped, he notices Bruce staring at him with a number of emotions on his face. Bewilderment. Confusion. Fear.  
  
“I see you admiring my new mask Bruce. Do you like it? It’s made of cedar now straight from the coffin of my parents. I crafted it myself which makes it much more personal than a piece of cloth, don’t you agree?”  
  
“Roman I need to do this. He will suffer like I did. This is my kill!” Thomas Elliot blurted out when he noticed the gun in Roman’s hand.  
  
“Shut up Elliot!” Roman responded bitterly. “I only used you to get him here. I got your money and we know Bruce has plenty. Together my boss will put me in charge in no time.”  
  
Caught between their argument like a child in the midst of a ‘monkey in the middle’ game, Bruce now has another thing to worry about: making sure the gun in Roman Sionis’ hand does not go off and blow the entire house to hell.  
  
Having had enough of the petty arguing, Roman takes his gun and aims it past Bruce right into the chest of Thomas Elliot.  
  
“I guess I just kill you first. Then the bat.” Sionis explains to the both of them, and then uses his thumb to prepare the loaded weapon to do its intended job.  
  
“Roman! Don’t!” Bruce yells but it was too late.  
  
With a sound louder than ten cannons going off next to his ear and a blast of heat hotter than five jet engines, Bruce sees a brief flash of light, then all of a sudden; nothing. 

 

LXXXV

In the dust and rubble from the aftermath of the explosion, Bruce Wayne is barely able to stand on his own two feet. Using a nearby structure to help him rise, he looks around to try to find the other two men in the house but soon realizes that he is standing near the driveway and the house he was standing in moments before is no longer there.  
  
Amazed he is even alive, Bruce looks down at the suit and through the dust and smoke in the air, and he sees rips and holes and burn marks covering his body from cowl to toe. The suit is in very bad condition but it saved his life and for that he is both thankful and lucky.  
  
Once he is able to stand without support, he begins to walk over bricks and rubble towards where the house was previously standing. Trying to find his way to where the kitchen would have been, he notices the only thing standing from the blast is part of the chimney which Bruce had entered the house. Noticing a lump of something on the floor, Bruce runs to the foot of the chimney which was once the living area in the home.  
  
Lying on the hearth in front of the chimney is Thomas Elliot. He is badly burned and his missing parts of both his left leg and right arm. His facial features are so badly singed he is completely unrecognizable. Not sure if it is due to the gun shot from Sionis or the explosion but Bruce Wayne’s once only friend lay dead and burned in the former house of Roman Sionis.  
  
Turning around, Bruce is able to see straight through the rest of the house. Where the glass windows were in the kitchen is just wide open with the bricks and glass of the wall everywhere in the backyard. The only structure remaining fully in tact is the shed like building sitting against the back of the property. Noticing the shape of Roman Sionis propped against the door, Bruce runs as fast as he can to the building but to no avail.  
  
Roman Sionis is more badly burnt than Thomas Elliot was. His clothes are completely burned off or stuck to his skin which was covered every inch in red blisters. Apparently Roman was alive long enough to make it to the doors of the shed before death finally overtook him. Bruce tries to remove the wooden mask which he had been wearing but this too proves not possible. The wood was burnt so badly it conformed to Roman’s face. Roman Sionis died wearing the black mask he loved since he was a child.  
  
Through the firelight Bruce is able to see down into the shed which Roman was trying to enter. Down the dark steps a small workshop can be seen. Two wooden boxes are lined up with a saw next to one and a small work station right next to it. Roman wasn’t lying. He carved his black mask from the caskets of his parents.  
  
The ringing in Bruce’s ears is still heavy and prominent but one thing he is certain of his the wail of sirens in the background. Different from police sirens but still people Bruce did not want to deal with right now.  
  
Looking back at his once former friends from the driveway of the now vacant property lot, Bruce says his final goodbyes. He was now left with literally no one. Even through death, Thomas Elliot succeeded; Bruce is suffering from both the guilt of everyone that has died because of him and of loneliness of losing his only friends in the past 24 hours. Vicki Vale, the board members, Roman Sionis, and countless others are dead because of Thomas Elliot’s hatred of Bruce Wayne.

LXXXVI

The following night, James Gordon is sitting in his third floor office almost ready to go home and celebrate his daughter’s birthday (which had now turned into a multiple day affair since he’s had to work so much) when he hears a knocking on the glass window. Through the lamp light he can see a large figure that appears to be hanging from the roof above. As he walks over to the light switch to illuminate the entire room, he jumps back in shock when he sees the man dressed like an armored bat from Thomas Elliot’s apartment suspended in midair outside of his window.  
  
Gordon turns and locks his office door before he takes three steps and opens the window, allowing the man to enter his office. Upon first glance, the Batman is in very bad shape. There are burns all over his armored suit as well as holes in the armor plating in the torso and legs.  
  
“What the hell happened to you? Two days ago this suit looked brand new.” Gordon asks the man but not sure he wants to hear an answer.  
  
“I suppose you know already about the explosion at Roman Sionis’ house. Two bodies found, one not identifiable?”  
  
Gordon nods thinking he sees why the man is here; to prove his worth to the Gotham City Police Department.  
  
“I was there. The other man is Thomas Elliot. I was able to track him down to Roman Sionis’ house. They set a trap for me by filling the house with gas. The two of them argued who was going to kill me when Roman pulled a gun and shot at Thomas, which caused the explosion.”  
  
“Why are they both trying to kill you? What could you possibly have done?”  
  
Bruce thought this question through and made sure there were no flaws that would lead back to him being Bruce Wayne.  
  
“Elliot and Sionis were friends. I was obviously at Elliot’s apartment last night so he knew who I was. I found him by hacking into your computers and able to watch the security footage from the Wayne Enterprises conference and I was following the important people from the conference I thought he would target next. I found Vicki Vale and you know what happened.  
  
“As for Sionis, you need to look into mob connections. He said something about getting me out of the way for his boss and taking Elliot’s fortune.”  
Gordon is dumbfounded by all of the information that the Batman has given him. His mind is overloaded with questions but the man interrupts him again before he can ask even one.  
  
“If you ever need my help, turn on the flood light on the roof. I’ll come as quickly as I can.”  
  
With that last statement, the Batman standing in front of James Gordon jumps out of the open window into the night which he was born in and disappears.  
  
Not knowing what else to do and not able to have any of his questions answered, Gordon dwells on the last statement the man said.  
  
“’Turn on the flood light on the roof’” Gordon cannot remember a light being on the G.C.P.D. roof at all so with something he can hopefully understand, he unlocks his office, leaving both the window and door open and heads to the roof. 

LXXXVII

Gordon emerges onto the roof of the Gotham City Police station to find something just a strange as the events of the past week have been. A flood light that stands about as tall as his waist has been placed on the roof of the police station.  
  
He jogs over to the light, intrigued by how it got there and what purpose it serves at all. Why would the mysterious Batman want us to use a light to summon him? But just then the words the man said in his office ring in his mind: “If you ever need my help, turn on the flood light…” The light isn’t only a sign for him but for the criminals to know he’s out there hunting at night.  
  
As Jim Gordon looks down at the light, the one thing that stands out to him besides the absurdness of it all is the emblem embossed into the glass lens. It’s the same design as the man has plastered onto the chest of the suit. The symbol of a bat. 

LXXXVIII

The summer has flown by and Bruce sits daily in his mansion with no company except his old English butler. However Bruce has come to enjoy the loneliness as much as he can. Every night he goes out in his suit, hoping to inflict fear into the scum of Gotham city. And seeing as there seem to be fewer criminals out in the middle of August, Bruce feels he is doing his part well. Unfortunately, there are still no traces of Victor Zsasz to be found and the serial murderer is still on the loose. The total deaths have reached 30 confirmed since May.  
  
One sunny afternoon of August 19th, Bruce is sitting in his study reading the books he planned to read months ago when his cell phone rings from across the room. Hurrying to gather it out of his suit jacket, he is forced to answer it on the last ring before looking at the caller I.D.  
  
“Bruce? I’ve got some news for you.” James Gordon reveals from the other end of the phone.  
  
“Good afternoon commissioner. What can I do for you?” Bruce responds with relief. He was expecting a bill collector or someone from Wayne Enterprises.  
  
“Well I’m looking down at some paperwork on my desk here and it looks like everything has been approved. You are now the legal guardian of Richard John Grayson.”  
  
The news caught Bruce off guard. When Gordon told him it would take time, he didn’t expect to hear back within less than two months.  
  
“That’s… Wow that’s awesome. I didn’t expect to hear back on it so soon. Thank you.”  
  
“I told you I’d try to help out and push it along. Turns out I had more power than I thought in the courts. Now Richard has to stay where he is until September First. But on that day he is free to move in with you. I’ll need you to come down to the station sometime before then and sign the final paperwork. Just call me before you come and it will get it done.”  
  
“Thank you so much commissioner. I greatly appreciate it. Did you tell Dick yet?”  
  
“I have Bruce. See you soon.” With that James Gordon ended the conversation.  
  
Bruce slips the phone into his track pants pocket then turns to tell Alfred the good news and is shocked to see him standing in the doorway.  
  
“Are you sure you want to go through with this master Bruce?” Alfred asks and Bruce can sense how skeptical he is.  
  
“Alfred it will be fine. I would love to have someone else around here to talk to. No offence of course.”  
  
“What about your secret Bruce. If the kid is as bright as you’re telling me, he will be able to put two and two together and figure out you’re the Batman everyone is talking about.”  
  
Bruce has thought this through and for once disagrees with Alfred on a topic.  
  
“I will take him in and train him. Use him as a sidekick while he learns the ropes until that day. You never know Alfred. Something could happen to me and I could die. But because Bruce Wayne dies doesn’t mean the Batman does. He’s more than a man, he’s a symbol. And with the right training, Dick can be that symbol if for some reason, I can’t be. Besides like I said. It will be nice to have a new face walking around these old empty halls.” 

LXXXIX

The sensation of cold steel on warm flesh sooths Victor Zsasz once more. The amount of marks on his arm has now grown to 32 since the summer began. He has had fear of the new ‘Batman’ everyone is talking about but still goes out every day and night trying to complete his mission. He knows one day he will be apprehended but until then, he goes out, saves a trapped soul, and then vanishes from sight.  
  
***  
  
Come nightfall once again, Bruce is in his cave getting dressed in the suit that has been doing its job well. As he sits on the edge of the table to strap on his boots, the computer in front of him begins to beep in a high pitch. Bruce quickly ties his last boot then runs over to it; still half dressed in the Batsuit.  
  
On the screen of the computer are countless video streams from the traffic cameras at every intersection of Gotham City. Bruce set the computer to run a facial recognition scan for Victor Zsasz by hacking into each camera. For the past week, they have found nothing but tonight, Bruce has a match and a way right to Victor Zsasz.  
  
XC

With Alfred’s help from the Batcave relaying straight through the cowl and into his ear, Bruce starts the night heading towards the intersection where the camera caught a glimpse of Zsasz. Bruce obviously knowing Victor Zsasz wouldn’t be out in the streets, he grapples to the highest point around him; the highest ledge of the Gotham Bank building.  
  
Using his detective mode in the cowl, he scans the area for heat signatures or something that would stick out from the norm. Looking three blocks to the east he sees a small fire struck up in an alley. There’s no guarantee it’s him but it’s certainly a start.  
  
Bruce spreads his wings and lets the electric charged cloth wings of the Batsuit take control. Leaping from the edge of the building like a suicidal maniac, the wind rushes through Bruce giving him a bit of a chill on a warm summer’s night. As he glides through the air over the streets of Gotham his gaze is intent on the fire coming steadily closer. Without giving a warning, Bruce folds in his arms and lands hard but upright on the concrete in front of a bald man huddled into a corner of the alley next to a dumpster. Victor Zsasz. 

XCI

Victor Zsasz is not surprised to see the Batman standing in front of him at all.  
  
“I wondered how long it would take you to find me Batman.” He says smiling, as if taunting the man standing in front of him. “I knew the police weren’t capable of doing it but it took you quite a while.”  
  
Victor Zsasz wasn’t quite what Bruce was expecting. While he does look like the man from the cell phone video from weeks back, he smells as if he’s lived on the streets for months and been showering in public park fountains (which he had). Upon further inspection, Bruce notices the tally marks on his left arm which started to wrap around like a sleeve.  
  
“You keep track of your kills by carving them into your flesh?” Bruce asks both against his will and out of disturbance.  
  
“Of course I do Batman. I have to count the poor souls I’ve saved. Don’t you keep track of the people you save from the people like me?”  
“You’re not saving anyone Victor! You’re murdering them! You killed 30 people!”  
  
“32 but nice guess. I suppose the police haven’t found the other bodies.”  
  
“Why do you do it Victor?”  
  
Now it was Victor’s turn to tell the story, to explain finally to someone who might understand him.  
  
“In May I lost everything, starting with my parents. They died in a boating accident which left me a fortune and a mansion but I didn’t want any of that, I just wanted my parents back. They did nothing wrong so why did they deserve to die?  
  
“So I turned to drinking and gambling. I took my entire fortune to the Iceberg Lounge and got in on their secret underground gambling rings. I lost everything to a man wearing a stupid black mask and a short fat British man with a beak nose, umbrella and a monocle. They took my house, my cars, my money and even my booze!  
  
“Depressed I walked to the Gotham Bridge to jump into the ocean from whence I came. I would join my parents and all would be over. From behind a man came at me with a knife demanding money. I told him I had none so he tried to kill me. Instincts took over and I turned it on him, slicing his throat open right there on the bridge. As the breath left his body I looked directly into his eyes and it hit me. I have a mission in life. The man was just a zombie struggling with the life he had, so I freed him of it.  
  
“Using the knife he tried to turn on me, I cut the first tally mark deep into my flesh, marking the first soul I saved from this damned world. From then on I knew I needed to help as many people as possible so I have. Ever since that day, I’ve saved 31 more people. But alas here you are. I look at this as my break. 32 people is a good start but there are countless others that need my help! I’ll be back later to fulfill my goal, perhaps even helping you first. The mysterious Batman.”  
  
On that note, Bruce whipped out a pair of Bat-a-Rang handcuffs and locked them tight on the wrists of Victor Zsasz. Grabbing him around the waist, Bruce grapples up to the roof above and looks around. Just a few blocks away Bruce can see the white stone spiral columns on marking the front of the G.C.P.D. building. Thinking to himself that Victor had literally almost been right under their noses, Bruce begins to run the roof tops dragging Victor alongside him to the police and then hopefully to Arkham Asylum where he belongs. 

XCII

Working her one nightshift of the week, Officer Nina Edge is sitting at her desk when out of the corner of her eye; she sees a flash of light burst into the sky. Sticking her head out of the open window and gazing upward into the clear starry sky, her eyes are drawn to the flood light with a giant bat in the middle of it. Ducking back inside she runs across the war room (the floor of the 3rd floor as they called it) to James Gordon’s office. Inside he is once again getting ready to go home.  
  
“Gordon,” Officer Edge interrupts as he is putting his tweed jacket on. “The spotlight on the roof is on and I know no one has gone up to it tonight.”  
  
“Why does something happen when I am walking out of the God damn door!?” demands Gordon more to himself as he puts his briefcase down on his desk. As he runs through the floor with Nina Edge behind him, he bursts out onto the roof, slowly putting his hand on his weapon. When no immediate threat is detected, he rushes over to the light but abruptly stops when he sees a man handcuffed to it.  
  
The man that is handcuffed to the light is bald and smells as if he’s been homeless for a while. On his left forearm are numerous sets of tally marks. A note is pinned to his pants with the knife that Victor had in his pocket.  
  
This man’s name is Victor Zsasz. He is the serial murderer that’s been free since May. To date he has killed 32 people. He needs to be admitted to Arkham Asylum immediately. …Your welcome….  
  
Now knowing how this man got here, Gordon reaches over and turns off the floodlight while giving orders to Officer Edge to take Victor Zsasz down to processing. He looks back down at the note and in his mind begins to think that the Batman is exactly what Gotham City needs. 

XCIII

The morning of September 1st has finally come as James Gordon is driving his personal ruby colored Mazda 6 sedan up the dirt path to Wayne Manor. Beside him is Richard Grayson who is dressed in baggy blue jeans and an old Radiohead t-shirt and a pair of black converse. In the back seat of the car is Richard’s one and only piece of luggage; an old U.S. military bag which can store almost everything.  
  
When the car arrives at Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne is waiting outside to greet them. Dressed much less formally than Jim Gordon has ever seen him, Bruce is wearing a black Gotham Knights t-shirt and a pair of white gym shorts and flip-flops. With a smug look, Gordon can finally accept Bruce as more than just a formal business man.  
  
He gets out and walks up to Bruce to shake his hand.  
  
“Thank you Bruce. For everything. On the way over here, he told me he didn’t know how much longer he was going to stay in foster care.”  
  
“It is all my pleasure Jim. Really. Hey Dick! What’s going on? Welcome home!” Bruce directed his comments to the teenager who just emerged from the car. After Gordon said his final goodbyes to Richard, Bruce takes the bag from the young man and begins to show him around the mansion. In the foyer, he points to the left for the study and the right for the kitchen. Closer to the steps he again points left for the entertainment room and right for the dining room. Up the steps at the split, Bruce leads the boy to the left and up to the east wing. Bruce opens the bedroom door a ways down the hall to what was once his childhood room to a room that has been painted white with brand new furniture.  
  
“This was my room as a kid and up until last week honestly. I painted the walls white so you can do whatever you want to them. I hope you like the furniture too. I wasn’t sure what kind of furniture teenagers liked so I was shooting blind in that department.”  
  
Bruce drops the bag on the floor as Dick walks around his new bedroom. Bruce figured it was time to give up his childhood room and move to the master bedroom on the west wing which was once his parent’s room.  
  
“One more thing before I leave you alone Dick.” Bruce said to the kid as he begins leading him back downstairs. Across the foyer, they head into the kitchen and through a door near the front of the house into the garage. Inside the massive garage there are numerous cars and models from all different kinds of manufacturers. There are Nissans and BMWs and Mazdas and Volkswagens among some superior European engineering and priceless gems. But what they were really in the garage for is the machine sitting against the back wall.  
  
“I just got it from the mechanic yesterday. I know if I didn’t have a set of wheels as a teenager, it would drive me mad. So here you go.”  
  
Bruce tossed Dick the keys to a brand new Ruby Red Yamaha FJR1300, the newest model of street bikes to date. The detail is incredible and immediately, Dick is drawn to the insignia on the fuselage. Imbedded into the metal of the fuselage of the bike is the emblem from his acrobat suit that he wore with his family, the Flying Graysons. 

XCIV

Victor Zsasz has sat in the holding cells of Gotham City’s jail for two weeks before he was cleared to be moved to Arkham Asylum. Officer Nina Edge was assigned the task of transporting him from holdings to the Asylum on the night of September 1st. She had other officers put him in her patrol car and all she had to do was to drive to the asylum and their employees would take care of him. She had to have no interaction with the lunatic at all.  
  
As the sun is setting on the horizon of Gotham, Nina is driving straight into the blood red sunset to Arkham Asylum. She once looked into her rear view mirror and made eye contact with the bright blue eyes of the murderer in her back seat. It seemed as though he was trying to figure out a way to murder her. It must have been eating him inside, being so close to someone but bound by chains. Luckily enough, she had no more interactions with him and once she arrived at the asylum, she was rid of him for good.  
  
She followed him into the transfer bay in the Asylum as two employees came out and gathered their newest inmate. One was a middle aged man who did all of the handling of Victor. The other was a younger blond female who seemed like she could be no more than an intern at the asylum, let alone a full time employee. It was she who took all of the paperwork from Nina.  
  
Victor Zsasz had chains binding both his arms and feet so he was walking very slowly. As Nina followed him in, she took note of how run down the Asylum looked even though it had only been functional for a short amount of time. The hallway was dilapidated with chipped paint and dirty walls and flickering lights.  
  
Once the convoy of Zsasz, the two Arkham workers and Nina Edge reached the end of the transfer bay, a doctor came out of the room in the corner. He must have been looking over the case file of his newest inmate because he knew everything there was to know about Victor Zsasz. The man was taller than average height and completely bald on the top of his head with a little black hair around the sides. He had no facial hair and was dressed entirely in a white lab coat and khaki pants. But what made the man so interesting was the way he spoke and his completely round spectacles.  
  
“Victor Zsasz.” The man said as he approached the company now at the end of the hallway.  
  
“My name is Doctor Hugo Strange. We are going to take great care of you here in Arkham Asylum. Please, follow me.” 

XCV

Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson, and Alfred Pennyworth are all sitting in the entertainment room of Wayne Manor on Richard’s third night in the house. In front of the three men are boxes and bags of Chinese takeout from Gotham’s most famous Chinese restaurant. On the television is the late night local news with Jack Rider. Bruce still found it difficult to watch the news and read the paper due to guilty pains of what happened to Vicki Vale.  
  
“Earlier tonight,” Jack Rider begins his broadcast.  
  
“Serial murderer Victor Zsasz was taken to Arkham Asylum for an indefinite amount of time. Remember he was turned into the police by the mysterious Batman a few weeks back.”  
  
At the mention of the Batman, Dick Grayson suddenly becomes interested in his surroundings. For the past three days, Dick had been very quiet and only gave answers to questions directly related to him. But now Bruce noticed he has taken an interest in the Batman. Now is the time to endear himself to his new son. By telling him his secret.  
  
“Hey Dick. Give me a hand with something would you?” Bruce asks to get him out of the room.  
  
Dick follows him out into the foyer and down to the study. Thinking that Bruce just needs help carrying books up to his bedroom, he isn’t all that enthused to be assisting. But all those thoughts are wiped away when Bruce begins to speak.  
  
“I don’t blame you for keeping to yourself. After my parents died and I moved in with my uncle in Korea, I didn’t speak unless spoken to. I didn’t feel like I should. So just know that I’m here if you want to talk and I won’t force you to.”  
  
Dick mumbles something that sounds like thank you but Bruce isn’t too sure. Instead he carries on with his plan.  
  
“What I’m about to show you can ruin my life in an instant. And yours and Alfred’s as well if people find out. Do you understand?”  
  
Now Dick is interested. He even let a smile slip as he nodded yes to Bruce, half thinking he was joking. But he wasn’t. With Dick standing by the window looking out into a moonlit September night, Bruce reaches for the grandfather clock against the wall, turning the hands of time. To Dick’s sudden surprise, when the clock reads 9:30, it swings forward like a door, revealing the dark depths of oblivion behind it. 

XCVI

“You’re the Batman!?!? How? What? Why?” So many questions were running through Dick’s mind as the lights illuminate the cave in which he is standing and walking around.  
Parked exactly where Bruce left it is the Batmobile, which is to the left of the staircase. Over to the right is the biggest computer Dick had ever seen. On the table behind it is the legendary Batsuit which Bruce wears every night.  
  
“I want to be a symbol of fear to the criminals of Gotham and a symbol of hope to the ones that need reassuring the city is safe. Bats chased away my parents’ killer or he would have killed me too. Hence the bats. You deserve to know about this. You’re part of the family and I’m sure you would have figured it out eventually anyway.”  
  
Dick is speechless and mesmerized by his surroundings. His adopted father is the Batman. What are the odds on that?  
  
“No one can know about this Dick. The only people that do live in this house. The three people that figured out my secret died and there is nothing I could have done. My two best friends. My girlfriend. The guilt still pains me but they stumbled upon it. I didn’t tell them.”  
  
“I understand Bruce. I have no friends. I have no one to tell.” Dick responds, saying his first words since he told Alfred what he wanted from the Chinese restaurant.  
  
Bruce knows deep down that he can trust Dick but to start off it is always a scary thought, telling someone your secret like this. As he watches Dick run around the cave like a kid in a candy store, Bruce decides to do more than just tell him his secret.  
  
“You know Dick,” he begins to get the young man’s attention.  
  
“This is going to get really difficult for me to do one day, especially when I’m older. I could really use some help. Are you interested?”  
  
XCVII

Dick Grayson is once again speechless by what his new father has told him. First he reveals that he is Batman and now he is asking if he would like to be his sidekick. This is certainly not how he expected the night to go after the way it started; eating Chinese takeout and watching the news.  
  
“Bruce, wow. I’d love to. Hell yeah.”  
  
“You will be put through a lot of training. It will be incredibly difficult but I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were up to it.”  
  
“I’m the most fit guy I know. I can handle a little training.” Dick responds perhaps a bit too relaxed.  
  
“I’m serious Richard. This will be the hardest thing you’ll have ever done. And I have to repeat. No. One. Can know about this? Do I have your word?”  
  
Dicks swears his oath to Bruce as he begins rummaging through the file cabinets behind the table containing all of Bruce’s gadgets. For the first time since his parents were murdered by Hush, Richard Grayson finally feels like he belongs. 

XCVIII

On the first rainy night of September, Jim Gordon is looking over paperwork in his office. A file was placed on his desk about a series of bank robberies happening all around Gotham. The name involved on all reports circles around one man; Carmine Falcone.  
  
Officers who have responded to these incidents and done research also suggest an outside influence; someone of wealthy foreign descent with strong ties to finances in Gotham City.  
  
Knowing without a doubt that the police will need assistance in tracking down Carmine Falcone and his accomplices, Gordon jumps up from behind his mahogany desk, grabs an umbrella off of the coat rack by the door, and makes his way to the roof of the police station to hopefully speak with a man that can help him .

XCIX

Jim Gordon only has to wait five minutes in the soggy weather for the Batman to appear on the roof. Without any introduction, Gordon switches the floodlight off and begins to explain the situation.  
  
“The mob is in full swing. They’ve hit five banks in the last two and a half weeks. Our investigators know Carmine Falcone is behind them but there is another influence. someone of wealthy foreign descent and strong financial ties to Gotham.”  
  
“What do you need me to do?” Bruce asks Gordon in his deep gruff voice.  
  
“We’re the Gotham City Police Department. Carmine Falcone is the head of the mob. He’s got at least half dozen officers planted among us. We need you to help us track him down. We need to find out who this other man is. If we try to do anything without 150% evidence against them, the mob will expose how corrupt the system is and everything we’ve built up will be destroyed. We need you on this one.”  
  
“I’ll see what I can do.” Bruce responds and without waiting for closure to the conversation, he glides off into the night like the bat he aspires to be. 

C

Another season of Gotham Knights hockey is just around the corner. By showing Dick loads of games from previous seasons, he became an avid fan of the team.  
  
Bruce took Dick to the Gotham City Outlet Mall where the Knights are practicing for the upcoming season. Training camp opened September 1st for the Knights and it is now open and free to the public. Having something important to tell Dick, Bruce decides a neutral location would be best suited for the job.  
  
As the two of them sit in the bleachers surrounding the ice rink in the mall, fans of the team pour in every entrance for a chance to see their favorite player. As the team takes the ice, the crowd erupts as if they are watching an actual Gotham Knights game.  
  
As they watch the Knights practice, Bruce leans over to Dick, breaking the news to him.  
  
“I’ve got your training all lined up.” He begins, trying to think of where to carry the conversation next.  
  
“I spoke to a few colleagues of mine and we arranged to send a group of young, talented kids to train together. The problem is… it’s in Metropolis.”  
  
Dick, who had been listening to Bruce but paying attention to the players, now gives Bruce his full, undivided attention.  
  
“You’re sending me away? But I just got here. Why can’t I stay and train with you?”  
  
“Trust me Dick. I don’t want to send you away. But my colleagues and I decided it is what’s best for all the kids involved. You’ll be put into real situations where you have to learn to adapt and use your skills. It is only for a year and I promise I will come to Metropolis. We will catch a Knights game there. And I’ll bring you home for the holidays. Think of it like college.”  
  
Dick is silent for a moment and Bruce can see the gears of thought turning in his head.  
  
“I’ll go. But two things first. Why didn’t you kill Victor Zsasz? He murdered 32 people and gets off to go to Arkham. He deserves to die.”  
  
Bruce knew this question would come sooner or later so he might as well answer it now.  
  
“Dick, you’ll learn in training. Killing is not justice. If we kill then we are no better than the people we are trying to stop. It doesn’t matter what we do, it will always be above killing even the worst type of criminal.”  
  
Dick was silent for a moment and decided to not pursue the topic. Instead, he went on to his other stipulation of leaving for Metropolis.  
  
“Remember how I told you my mother used to say I looked like a Robin in my acrobat suit? I want that to be my crime fighting suit and I want my name to be Robin. Is that fair?”  
  
Bruce smiles at his newly adopted son.  
  
“I don’t see why not. Batman and Robin. It has a ring to it doesn’t it?”

Epilogue  
“Tell me why you want to be a mob boss.” Demanded Cobblepot from across the table in the Iceberg Lounge. Sitting next to the short fat British man is an Italian man who appears as though he has a lot of power.  
  
“Why wouldn’t you want me as a mob boss? I have access to the Arkham fortune. Shouldn’t that be enough? I was left in charge of the entire Asylum for God sake. With my input and influence, the mob will be unstoppable.”  
  
“You don’t get to come in here and demand to be a part of this organization! Do you fucking know what you’re trying to get into?” the Italian man raised his voice and slammed his empty glass that once held whiskey onto the white tabletop.  
  
“Take it easy Carmine. We may have something here.” Cobblepot interjected.  
  
Reaching into his tuxedo pocket, Oswald Cobblepot pulls out a something that looks like a black cloth.  
  
“Jeremiah Amadeus Arkham, you are to take this Black mask and prove to us that you have what it takes to be a mob boss. Make us more powerful than the pigs at G.C.P.D. ever dreamed we could be. Fail, and Carmine and his boys will send you to the bottom of Gotham Harbor. Get to it, Black Mask.” 

 

 

Coming Winter 2013:

Knight of the Mob


End file.
